A Ghost Story
by mkim57
Summary: This is an AU story, its a shipper story too, just hang in there with me.smile
1. Chapter 1

A Ghost Story

Chapter 1

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. All rights to the story and movie "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir" are owned by Twentieth Century Fox Incorporated. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Anything from Season One through Season Ten. Also this is very loosely based on the story told in the movie "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir."

A/N: All aboard the Starship Enterprise...because this one is definitely AU. I have been pondering the concept of true love and 'meant to be.' The question came to me, what if Mac and Harm had just missed each other? Would love have found a way in spite of it all? Being the romantic that I am…I decided to try and find out.

A/N: I will also play with the dates here. Season two aired in January 97 but we will begin in May of that same year. The story begins at the start of Season two.

1635

Monday

May 3rd 1997

North of Union Station

Major Sarah Mackenzie stepped into the building that looked more like a warehouse than a potential home. She had heard that the place was available through Lieutenant j.g. Bud Roberts, whom she had met just this morning. She just had attended an awards ceremony at the White House Rose Garden with her new commanding officer, Admiral AJ Chegwidden and the lieutenant. The Distinguished Flying Cross had been awarded posthumously to Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb Jr.

As she stepped off of the elevator she smiled, thinking that she liked the sound of his name. 'Too bad you didn't stick around, Commander,' she thought.

The real estate agent droned on and on, but she hadn't really been listening to him. He seemed a bit too pretentious to her and not a little condescending. He had tried to discourage her from the moment she mentioned that she wanted to see this property, warning her that this was no place for a woman alone. She had thought of reminding him that she was a Marine, but somehow as she looked at him, with every hair in place and his buttoned up exterior, she didn't think he would understand the concept.

They walked into the apartment, and the room Mac took in was a real work in progress. A ladder sat just to her left with a paint bucket still sitting on the floor beside it. A brush rested atop the paint can as though the person painting had merely taken a break and would be back at any moment. The kitchen island was covered in plastic, as were some of the windows.

"Has the owner hired painters to finish the job?" Mac wondered aloud as she walked through the apartment.

"Yes, some were hired but they didn't finish, as you can see. You understand that the original owner, Commander Rabb, died before the project was finished. His mother, Mrs. Burnett, hired painters, electricians, everyone necessary to finish this job. The painters, however, refused to finish. They insisted that the building was haunted."

David Parker looked at his client, hoping to finally discourage her from taking on this dilapidated building in a neighborhood entirely too crime ridden for her. He had a nice brownstone in Georgetown that was just what she needed. He would never understand women, especially headstrong women like she appeared to be; they were their own worst enemies, in his opinion.

Mac stopped where she stood in the apartment and turned to look at the real estate agent. She had finally had enough of his patronizing attitude. She was not a child and she was perfectly capable of finishing this apartment and making it work well for her. Besides, this was much less expensive, and given the state of her social life she much preferred making this apartment a home than looking for love in all the wrong places… which was a habit she intended to break immediately.

"Mr. Parker, my decision will be based on what works best for me and my lifestyle. I am single, I have a very demanding job that takes me away much of the time, and I think this may very well be the place that suits me best. I don't appreciate your efforts to scare me away from this property. I am perfectly capable of making this my place my own without any help from anyone. Do you really think a ghost story will keep me from choosing this property instead of the brownstone in Georgetown?"

"No, ma'am, of course not. I only meant to…." His voice died in his throat as she turned away from him.

Mac walked up two steps into what had to have been the bedroom. The bed had been left where the previous owner had placed it. She looked just above it and what she saw nearly took her breath away. It was a portrait of a man in uniform, in khakis with his cover low over his eyes. She recognized the collar devices as those of a lieutenant commander and the wings that rested above his ribbons on his chest. He was leaning against what looked to be the rail of a ship. The sky was blue above and the sea was gray, blue and green behind him. It was a casual pose, his arms folded across his chest, and he was smiling. His hair was dark and his eyes very similar in color to the sea painted in the portrait behind him. He was strikingly handsome; his penetrating gaze seemed to see her as she moved around the room.

Mr. Parker walked up behind her.

"That is a portrait of the original owner, Commander Rabb. Mrs. Burnett, his mother put it up and never had the heart to take it down."

Mr. Parker's voice had startled her, but she recovered quickly, hoping that he hadn't noticed.

"I see."

Mac looked around the room, studying the custom closets, the glass blocked shower, the light in the front room she could see through the louvered glass divider between the bedroom and the rest of the apartment. She liked it here.

She turned to walk out of the bedroom back into the kitchen. It was a gourmet kitchen with windows to the ceiling – not that she was much of a cook, but hey, she could certainly learn. The longer she was there the more she knew this place was for her for reasons she could not explain. She looked toward the bedroom, her eyes drawn again to the portrait of the commander.

Mr. Parker followed her gaze and commented, "You know, Major Mackenzie, it is said that the commander committed suicide here. He was apparently despondent over the death of an old flame from his Academy days. There is no proof, of course, just gossip."

The lights in the kitchen flickered and what sounded like an electrical circuit sizzled.

Mr. Parker appeared to break out in sweat and looked around the room warily.

Mac smiled in amusement. "What's the matter, Mr. Parker, do you think your comment angered the ghost?"

"Not at all." Mr. Parker walked slowly toward the open door, continuing to look around the room. "It's just that…. well, there was some question about the gas line to the apartment. The commander had insisted on doing all the work himself, so there is no way of really knowing if it was an accident or if he just couldn't go on with out his former lover."

Mr. Parker had nearly reached the door when it suddenly slammed shut and barely missed him as he approached it. He jumped back from the door for a moment and then grabbed the handle, flinging it back open as he nearly ran for the elevators.

"I'll meet you downstairs!" he called over his shoulder as he opened the elevator doors.

Mac began to laugh; she couldn't help herself. She didn't believe in ghosts, and she certainly wasn't going to be scared away by the possibility of one. Her laughter echoed off of the walls in the nearly empty apartment. It was though someone was laughing along with her. She looked at the portrait again and made her way out of the apartment and into the elevator.

Mr. Parker waited beside his Mercedes Benz, wiping his brow and thanking God that whatever inhabited that apartment had shown itself. There would be no way the major would take this apartment now.

"I'll take it, Mr. Parker." Mac smiled at him, as calm as she had been when they entered the building.

"But Major, you saw…you heard. Do you mean to tell me you're still going to take this building with whatever is inside it and in this God-forsaken neighborhood?"

Mac looked up at the row of windows that let the light into the kitchen of what would soon be her home. "Yes, I am."

Mr. Parker merely shook his head and got into his vehicle.

Mac turned to join him, and for a moment she could have sworn she saw someone in the window looking down on them.

"Ridiculous," she said quietly under her breath. Mr. Parker's ghost story had made her think she was seeing things.

Inside the apartment…

Harm looked down at the woman getting into the car. Who was she? She looked like Diane, so much so that when she walked into the apartment he thought he had finally found her. He had been looking for her since he finally understood that he was dead. He had fallen asleep and had never woken up.

He still felt a rage at the unfairness of it all. Diane murdered and now this, his life over with before it had even begun. Now it seemed, as in life, he could not reach her. Diane was always just out of reach. To top it all off people were actually saying he committed suicide. Surely no one who really knew him would believe that.

Now this person, this Major Sarah Mackenzie, was going to come into his place, the place he couldn't seem to leave, and make it her own. He could not fathom it.

She didn't appear to scare easily, but time would tell. Before he was finished he intended to be sure that the major believed in ghost stories, without a doubt.

Chapter 2

Spoilers: Any JAG episode and the movie "The Ghost and Mrs. Muir." The version released in 1947 will be my frame of reference, although, I will not follow the story exactly as filmed. Once again, ah…the beauty of fanfic.

0900

Monday

May 16, 1997

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Major Sarah Mackenzie made her way out of the conference room after staff call and started toward what would be her new office. This was her first staff call since returning from Arizona. Admiral Chegwidden had informed her that she would be occupying Commander Rabb's office. He had asked her if she would have a problem with that and she had not. Personally, she didn't understand why everyone was making such a big deal about her taking his apartment and now occupying his office. It hadn't been so much what they said but the looks on the faces of the staff when they learned she had taken it.

She walked toward the office, already thinking about how she would make it her own, just as she had dreams of making the apartment her own as well. She was to sign the final paperwork on the property this afternoon at 1600. She couldn't wait to begin her new life, and the apartment was just the first step.

As she neared the office she noticed a petty officer standing on a step ladder, removing Commander Rabb's name plate and replacing it with hers. She smiled, thinking, 'Headquarters JAG.' Being stationed here was definitely a step up.

When she had been summoned here to assist in the investigation into the theft of the Declaration of Independence, she had known that there was more to the story than she had initially been led to believe. She assumed that once the investigation was over she would be returning to San Diego. She'd never dreamed she would have a permanent position here.

"Ma'am?" Lieutenant j.g. Roberts's voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Yes, Lieutenant, I'm sorry."

She was suddenly aware that she was still smiling and that she was surrounded by some members of the JAG staff who were not smiling at all. In fact, some of them had tears in their eyes. Her expression returned to one that was more serious and appropriate for the moment. She felt slightly ashamed of her thoughts just now. Commander Rabb had been dead for over a month, but no one on staff had had the heart to take down his name plate until now. She made a mental note to tread carefully for a while.

'Sorry, Commander,' she thought. Her thoughts had turned to the commander quite often of late. Since she had decided to take the apartment she had become curious about every part of his life. She also occasionally found herself talking to him in her thoughts as she did now, as though she had known him as well as anyone else at JAG.

The small group of people that congregated at the office door turned and acknowledged the major with a 'ma'am,' then quietly returned to their duties.

Mac stepped into her new office, and Lieutenant Roberts stood just outside the door. "Ma'am?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?" She refocused on the lieutenant as she turned toward him.

"If I may, ma'am, are you all right?" The lieutenant's expression was sincere.

He had accompanied her to Red Rock Mesa and had helped handle the 'special assistant to the Undersecretary of State' Clayton Webb very well. It had been difficult, and there were moments when she'd thought she and her uncle were going to lose more than their careers, but somehow she had been able to convince her uncle to turn himself in. He would be serving time in Leavenworth, but his sentence had been only eight years as compared to the 25 years that the prosecution had asked for.

"I'm fine, Lieutenant. Thank you for your concern."

She had a very good feeling about this particular naval officer. He seemed a bit too eager at times, but she believed that in time he would make a great officer and attorney. She sat down at her desk and began absentmindedly opening and closing drawers.

"Is there anything I can help you with, ma'am?"

"No, I'm going to send Petty Officer Tiner to Supply so that I can get my basic office supplies and get rolling. There doesn't seem to be anything left in here."

She opened the top drawer in the middle of her desk and saw a piece of paper; she picked it up and started to toss it in her trash bin.

Bud saw the other side of the paper and realized it was a picture of Commander Rabb and someone whose face he didn't recognize right at that moment.

"Oh, ma'am, I can take that. I'll just have it sent to the commander's mother."

Mac turned the paper over and saw a picture of the commander and a woman who, if she had not known better, could have been her.

"My God." She turned the picture back toward Bud. "This could be me."

The lieutenant walked further into the office and then recognized the woman in the picture as Lieutenant Diane Schonke.

"Yes, ma'am." He told her the name of the woman and that he had served with her aboard the Seahawk.

Mac looked again at the picture. The commander was standing behind Diane with his arms locked loosely around her waist. They were both smiling for the camera; it appeared to have been taken very recently.

"Did you know the commander well, Lieutenant Roberts?"

"Not well, ma'am. He conducted a few investigations aboard the Seahawk when I was the public affairs officer." Bud paused a moment. "I do know that he was a good officer, ma'am. His and his father's exploits were legend aboard the Seahawk. His father was an aviator too. He went MIA during Vietnam, I think."

Mac listened without comment. This guy must have been something else. She would have liked to have met him, she decided.

"Here…ma'am, I'll take that picture."

"No, that won't be necessary, Lieutenant. I have a number of things in the apartment that will have to be shipped to Mrs. Burnett. I can take care of this."

"Yes, ma'am."

"You are dismissed, Lieutenant."

"Ma'am." Coming to attention, Bud turned on his heel and left the room.

1800

Later that afternoon…

Mac opened the door to the apartment while juggling two bags of groceries and her dinner in the form of a Beltway Burger and large fries. She left the door open while she made her way to the now cleaned and cleared kitchen island. The painting was finished, with the exception of the bedroom, and her furniture would arrive tomorrow.

The windows were trimmed in white and the walls painted in the palest yellow. She looked around the room, satisfied with what she saw. Her eyes came to rest on the portrait still hanging over her bed. She smiled, wondering what the commander would think. Then, as though someone had read her mind, her front door once again slammed shut.

She was startled and turned toward the door; she walked to it and placed her hand on it. She felt around the frame of the door, looking closely to see if the door had been hung straight. Maybe the floors weren't level. She'd had the apartment inspected everything seemed to be in order according to the home inspectors report. Pondering this, she continued to inspect the door and the frame around it. She decided this was a huge and drafty old building. It was still officially the spring season; storms and winds blew up out of nowhere. The longer she thought about it, the more she knew that there had to be some reasonable explanation for this.

She turned and walked toward her kitchen, deciding dinner was long overdue.

Harm had been waiting for the major to come to the apartment all day. He thought that all he needed was to have her alone in the apartment for one night and that would be the end of any more intrusions from her or that pest David Parker. He could see now that this was not going to be as easy a task as he had thought. The evening was young, though, and a good strong storm was on the horizon. He had only to wait until dark.

2230

That evening…

Harm had learned that in his present state that he could be everywhere at once within his apartment. He watched from what seemed to be far away but could be immediately be as close as he chose. He watched as Sarah Mackenzie showered and sang to herself, bits of and pieces of songs that he did not recognize.

She really did appear to be a nice person. He was beginning to have to work very hard at not liking her, and he had to remind himself at almost every turn that she was not Diane. There were times, though, when it was very obvious that she was not; right now, for instance, it seemed Sarah Mackenzie, in addition to appearing to be physically stronger than Diane, was a bit more voluptuous too.

He leaned unseen against his bathroom sink, unable to keep from smiling as he watched her finishing up her shower and decided at that moment that being a ghost…had its advantages.

Mac walked out of the bathroom after her shower wrapped in a thick terrycloth robe she had found stuffed in one of the closet drawers. It was entirely too long and the sleeves had to be rolled up to fit her, but she loved the feel of it around her. As she walked out of the bedroom she lifted the sleeves to her nose and breathed in its clean and masculine scent. She laughed out loud at herself as she entered the kitchen and said aloud.

"Commander Rabb, you're just the kind of man I need, tall dark and handsome….and never ever in the way."

She shook her head and set about making herself a cup of tea before she went to bed.

Harm discovered that all his senses had not disappeared. As she passed him, she smelled of soap and shampoo, and her laughter was such a sweet sound that it reminded him of just how lonely he had been in this apartment before she had come into it.

She had unpacked most of her clothes after dinner and had been able to get her kitchen squared away as well. She filled her teapot, set it on the stove and turned on the burner. While she waited for her water to boil she remembered the picture she found in her office that afternoon. She walked over to her purse and took it out and looked longingly at the couple. They seemed so happy. To anyone who knew her by sight, they would believe that this was her wrapped in the arms of a man who loved her.

"Oh, to be loved like that," she said, heaving a huge sigh, and walked back into the kitchen.

Harm could see the picture she had in her hands. He was suddenly so angry that every kind thought he had about the major left him immediately. Who the hell was this woman? That picture belonged to him – what was she doing with it, anyway?

He watched as she slipped the picture into the pocket of his bathrobe.

The storm he that had been waiting for seemed to strike at the most opportune moment. It was as though the heavens opened and the rain suddenly came down in sheets. The lightning was streaking across the sky, with the thunder booming so loudly that it made the windows in the kitchen rattle.

Mac seemed unfazed by the storm and took a mug out of the cabinet and began to make her tea. She turned off the burner on the stove and just as she began to pour the water in her cup, the lights in the apartment went out.

"Just great."

She set the teapot down on the stove and went in search of her flashlight. She had left it in a box, she believed, that she had left near the door.

She had only taken a couple of steps when the lightning lit the room and she was face to face with the specter of Harmon Rabb Jr.

She drew in a breath sharply and stepped back.

Harm was feeling very pleased with himself. He hadn't had to say anything; maybe this would be all it would take. Just as he thought he had won, she seemed to steel herself and began to stare back at him. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin slightly as if she were challenging him.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you recognize me, Major?"

Mac continued to stare, and as she did, she realized who she was seeing; it was the commander in the portrait. He was a bit paler and it seemed that his hair was darker. His eyes also seemed even more penetrating than in the picture. His lashes were black and thick in sharp contrast to the pale blue color his eyes seemed to have become, a difference so stark that they cast an iridescent glow.

"You're Commander Rabb."

"Very good, Major. Now what the hell are you doing here?" He narrowed his eyes, trying to convey just how unwelcome she was.

"This is my home; I signed the final paperwork on the apartment this afternoon."

"Correction, Major Mackenzie: this is my home and you are not welcome here." He had raised his voice, making it carry and bounce off of the walls as the thunder had.

Mac shivered as the room's temperature seemed to drop 20 degrees.

Harm smiled smugly; counting backward from five, four, three … She should be running for the door any second.

Mac suddenly felt anger rise within her. This was the first and only home that was completely hers. She had always had to share with roommates, and as with many people in military life, a place called home could be difficult to find at best. No one was going to scare her away. She clenched her teeth and although she was afraid, she was not going to be chased away.

"Now you listen to me…whoever you are. I'm not leaving here. You could shake this building until it falls down and I will still be standing here in whatever is left of it."

She didn't understand the attachment she had to this place. She only knew it was her home and no one or nothing would make her leave it.

When she stopped speaking, Harm could see her chin begin to tremble and he knew instinctively that there was nothing he could do to make her go away. Truth be told, she was beginning to break his heart with her courage in the face of what he had been throwing at her. He felt ashamed as he saw the tears starting to slide down her cheeks.

"All right, enough of that. I didn't mean to make you…"

Mac didn't let him finish. "Don't flatter yourself, you didn't make me cry…it's…it's been a long day and I'm tired." Mac swiped at the tears on her face, still staring at him, still trying to comprehend that she was speaking to the ghost of the man who had lived here before her.

"Whatever you say, just stop." The fierceness that had been in his voice was replaced by an almost pleading sound. He could feel her pain as though it were his own; he felt connected to her for some inexplicable reason.

"Then you'll leave me in peace?" Mac asked hopefully.

"I didn't say I'd leave….I'm not sure I can…."

"Is it because suicide?"

"What?"

"Mr. Parker, the real estate agent, he said that you might have committed suicide."

"Mr. Parker is an idiot and he doesn't know anything about me. I didn't commit suicide. I had a huge lapse in judgment, yes…I should have let a professional help with that damn gas line…but I did not commit suicide."

Mac reached into her pocket and took out the picture of Diane and Harm.

"Where did you get that?" He still hated the idea that she had a picture that had been so precious to him in his lifetime.

"It was in your desk at JAG. The Admiral assigned your former office to me."

"My office – you're in my office?"

"Yes." Mac suddenly felt sorry she had mentioned that particular fact.

"My apartment, my office…" He gave her an appraising look. "….my bathrobe. It seems that you have almost everything that was mine."

"I'm sorry."

She noticed now how young he was, and how handsome. He must have had some life. An aviator, a JAG attorney, obviously loved by his coworkers and by the woman in the picture. She could only hope to have what he had in the short time he was here.

Harm answered her thoughts as though she had said them aloud. "I did have a lot of good things in my life. I lost Diane, though. She was murdered."

"Lieutenant Roberts told me."

"Roberts is at JAG?"

"Yes, he seemed genuinely disappointed that he would not be working with you."

Harm was silent, his mind returning to the problem at hand. How would they make this work? He knew now he could not make her leave, but if she painted another thing in this apartment 'pale yellow' he fully believed that this was meant to be his hell.

"You and I have to think of a way to coexist, Major Mackenzie."

"All right…I think I can do that. But my friends call me Mac." She smiled a half smile; okay…she was introducing herself to someone who happened to be a ghost named Lieutenant Commander Harmon Rabb, Jr.

"Harm."

"Harm?"

"It's short for Harmon."

"Oh…well, Harm…I think we can do this."

"On one condition."

"And that would be?"

"Leave my bedroom as I left it and whatever you do don't paint it yellow. And I want my portrait to stay there. I am proud of this place too. It was the first home I ever had on my own as well."

Mac turned to look at the bedroom through the louvered glass as the lights flickered and then came on to stay.

"I can do that." She turned to look at him and he was gone.

She yawned and suddenly felt so tired that she forgot her tea and walked back into the bedroom, turning off lights as she went. She stood at the side of the bed and began to untie the robe she was wearing; she looked up at the picture and remembered that she wasn't wearing anything under the robe. She suddenly closed it. She took an oversized T shirt from her closet with her to the bathroom and quickly slipped it over her head. She quickly turned off the light and slipped into bed.

As she settled under the comforter she heard a soft and husky chuckle. "You really know how to dress up a T shirt, Mackenzie."

Mac turned onto her side and slid the comforter up to her chin. She smiled, thinking about how insane this was and how much less lonely it felt to get into her bed alone tonight. It wasn't actually her bed, though, was it, she thought. It had been 'Harm's.' She snuggled deeper into the pillow and covers, trying to detect the slightest scent of the man whose home she was sharing, in her own personal ghost story. She giggled…in spite of herself. This really was insane.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A Ghost Story

Chapter 3

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. All rights to the story and the movie 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' are owned by Twentieth Century Fox Incorporated. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG episode through Season 10. We will focus primarily on the episode 'Ghost Ship' in this particular chapter. The sequence of events and dialogue are not exactly as portrayed in the episode.

A/N: We are taking a turn from 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' at this point(while keeping the basic premise in place) and going into our more 'ghostly' JAG episodes to further cement Harm and Mac's 'unique' relationship in this story.

0930

Tuesday

September 23, 1997

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Major Sarah Mackenzie and Lieutenant Bud Roberts left the Admirals office nearly skipping with happiness. They were headed to Alameda Naval Air Station to investigate the discovery of the remains of a lieutenant found in the void of the ship. Inspectors who were checking the ship for corrosion had discovered it by accident, or so they said.

She was ready to get out of Washington D.C. for awhile and back to all the things there were to see and do around Alameda. Bud had been following her into her office when Mac stopped short at the sight of Harm standing near the window behind her desk. She startled Bud who was following her too closely and ran into her.

"Oh… I'm sorry ma'am" Bud stepped back straightening his uniform self consciously. He could not see Harm, only Mac seemed to have that ability.

"Not a problem lieutenant, get your gear together and I'll meet you at Dulles at 1400. You're dismissed." She made a special effort to focus on Bud and not to look in Harm's direction.

"Yes ma'am" The excitement had returned to his voice, he couldn't wait to get out of headquarters and out to California. He came to attention and turned and left her office.

Mac had followed him as he left, closing the door and her blinds. She turned to look at the place where Harm had been standing. He was no longer there.

"Okay…are you still here?" She said aloud to, what appeared to be, no one in the room.

Harm was now standing behind her. "Yes, I am."

Mac drew in a breath sharply. "I wish you wouldn't do that."

"Sorry," he said with a sly grin and then quickly returned to the serious expression he held as she had entered the room.

"What are you doing here?"

She had never seen him in the office before. He had always been in the apartment. In the months since their 'agreement' she had seldom seen any sign of him. Harm made himself known from time to time, he even laughed out loud at her at times, when she appeared to be startled by his slammed door or flicker of lights. He kept his promise to coexist with her peacefully; he just felt the need to remind her from time to time that he was still there and that this was his apartment too.

"I've been 'getting out' more lately. As a matter of fact I heard your briefing with the Admiral. You're going to the USS Hornet to investigate a body found in the ships void."

"Yes…why are you so interested?"

"My father was on that ship; as a matter of fact I was on that ship during a Tiger Cruise, when I was about 4 years old."

Mac listened and as she did she was amazed at how totally normal he looked to her. He was dressed in the khakis that he wore in his portrait; he wore no cover this time. Harm looked real enough to touch. His appearance the first time she saw him, though strikingly handsome, was a bit frightening, but here; he looked as though he were just another of her coworkers here at JAG.

"Mac, I have some letter tapes in the apartment that may help with your investigation, if you're interested you can listen to them. My father sent them while he was stationed aboard the Hornet. She was still in commission during the time when Saigon fell; maybe there is something that someone may have left behind that may tell me about what may have happened to my father. The day Saigon fell, refugees fled to the ships in anything that would fly or float."

"You think he may still be alive, don't you?" Mac folded her arms across her chest, still giving him an assessing look.

"I know the chances are a million to one, but yes, I do."

"Someone always had to win the lottery, right?" She smiled at him.

"Yeah, something like that." His expression turned warm and admiring. "Thanks Mac."

She seemed willing to help him without question. His father's MIA status haunted him in life and in death.

"If you don't mind my asking, why you can't communicate with him now…since you're…I mean, you know since you're…"

"Dead." Harm folded his arms across his chest.

Mac looked away self consciously, "Yes"

"I don't know, I don't seem to be able to go far from my apartment or here at JAG."

He didn't understand it either; it seemed he wasn't able to be anywhere that she hadn't been, though he wasn't going to tell her that. For whatever reason: Mac was his touchstone, his link between this world and the next.

"You've been here at JAG often?"

"Often enough" He smiled at her smugly. "I have to be sure you're not having the walls in my old office painted 'pale yellow' too."

She returned his smile and turned toward her desk for a moment to begin clearing it and gathering what she would need to take with her to Alameda. When she looked back to where he had been standing, he was gone.

She really hated it when he did that. He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

"But where will I find the letter tapes?" She shook her head, if he wasn't going to tell her she wasn't going to worry about it.

"Just go home Mac…You'll see them."

She sighed…this was insane…but she would do it. Maybe it would help her with the case, the faster she finished, the faster she got to her San Francisco steak.

1635

TWA flight 337

Somewhere over the Midwest

Mac sat back in her seat listening to the letter tapes on her Walkman. They were found conveniently centered on the counter in the kitchen in her apartment, just as Harm had promised. The box also held what appeared to be other keepsakes that Harm had hidden away for safe keeping.

She listened as the calm and reassuring voice of Harmon Rabb Sr. spoke to his wife Trish. "Give little Harm a hug and a kiss for me and stay strong honey, I'll be home before you know it."

Sarah Mackenzie had never witnessed a loving exchange like that between her parents, Harmon Rabb Jr. had been fortunate in his childhood to have had parents like that. It must have seemed so safe and secure…so normal.

1900(Pacific Standard Time)

Alameda Naval Air Station

Aboard the USS Hornet

Mac walked across the hangar deck of the old ship feeling a strong urge to whistle in the dark. She held her flashlight and walked quickly across, cursing herself for not asking Bud to come along. He was on the pier using his laptop to do some research for her about the ships history. Ensign Harriet Sims, who had just come aboard at JAG, was on loan from the IG's office and was assisting him from the US Naval Historical Center in Washington.

She was being observed by more than one pair of eyes as she looked for the bulkhead number 2D42Z8V, the void where the body was found. A KGB agent on a mission of vital importance to his country and two others were observing. The two observers were spirits drawn to this place, each unaware of the other, but drawn for the same reason. A truth long hidden from the light of day.

For reasons Harm did not understand, he was there with Mac, watching her as she stepped through the passageways. He had never been farther away from his apartment than JAG since his death. Harm supposed that because this case dealt with a subject so close to him, he had to be where she was performing her investigation. He could hear her thoughts as she refused to give in to the fear she felt as she explored deeper and deeper into the ship. He smiled as she did in fact begin to 'give a little whistle' as she neared the void she had been searching for.

As Mac found the opening and started to step into the opening cut by the 'inspectors' she saw Harm standing to her left, beside her.

"Oh...damn it Harm! I hate it when you do that!" She felt the shock all the way to her feet. She had nearly dropped her flashlight.

Harm was almost sorry when she looked up at him, her face paled from fear. "Sorry Mackenzie…I'll give you a better warning next time." He gave her his most charming smile.

"I thought you hadn't been anywhere but the apartment or JAG"

"That was true…until now."

He knew there had to be a reason he was able to be here; maybe he would learn something that would give him the answers about his father that he had been searching for since he was 6 years old. Maybe he would finally find some peace about his loss and be able to let go of this life and go on to the next.

"Nice way to let me know." Mac was beginning to regain her composure.

Just then what sounded like a tearing mournful wail seemed to blow down the passageway of the ship.

Mac's eyes grew larger. "What was that?'

"It's just the ship cooling as the sun is setting. The metal expands and contracts, you don't hear it on a working ship but in the quiet here in the shipyard, there's nothing to mask the sound."

Mac nodded and just as she began to relax she heard the pounding of footsteps somewhere close to them in the void. That sound was definitely not metal expanding and contracting.

"Kill that light." Harm said urgently.

"No." She whispered matching his urgency and clutching it more closely to her. There was no way she was putting the light out now.

Mac felt herself being pushed back against the bulkhead and her flashlight suddenly went out. What must have been Harm's body pushed against her, he was solid as a rock and very, very cool. She had pushed her arm back against him instinctively and she could feel no heart beat. Her own heartbeat accelerated as the footsteps neared the place where she stood.

A flashlight was shone in her face. "What are you doing down here alone…Major"

The man with the flashlight had recognized her insignia, she assumed. "Who the hell are you?" She said in her toughest Marine bark.

"Lieutenant Mark Falcon, Alameda Police."

"I was told that the Alameda Police were turning over jurisdiction to the Navy since this happened while the Hornet was still commissioned."

"It was turned over to the Navy; I just wanted to follow up in my spare time. Do a little investigating on my own." The lieutenant seemed charming and Mac was so glad to see a friendly face in the god forsaken hull of a ship that she almost hugged him.

As she began to introduce herself to the police officer Harm had backed away, allowing Mac to return to a somewhat normal posture. She had forgotten he was there and began to talk with the lieutenant, filling him in on all they had been able to discover since she and Bud had begun their investigation.

As Harm watched them walk back across the hangar deck he felt as though something were pulling him back toward the void. There was more to know here, something in that void or on this ship.

"How about dinner?" Mark looked at her hopefully. "It's got to be after 10 o'clock Washington time. You've got to be starved."

Mac was hungry and then she remembered Harm. Trying to look around discreetly, as if she were trying to decide, she saw him further back on the hangar deck. He waved her away as if telling her to go. He would stay here and follow up on the feeling he had about this ship.

"Sounds great." Mac followed the lieutenant as she glanced over her shoulder at Harm, who was again…nowhere to be seen.

"Do you mind if I bring my partner along?" Mac knew Bud had been working on the case non stop since they left Washington.

Falcon looked disappointed but agreed.

Later that evening…

2200

VOQ

Lieutenant Roberts's quarters

Bud sat with his lap top resting on his legs. He was saving all the information Ensign Sims had sent earlier in the day. They had learned a lot about the body found in the void, since their arrival earlier that day.

It was that of Lieutenant Brian Tate, he had been an aviator, stationed aboard the Hornet during the fall of Saigon. He was reported missing at sea on April 30 1975. The medical examiner had told him that the lieutenant had a Skoshi Tiger patch clutched in his hand. Apparently he had it clutched in his hand after the struggle that had killed him. They had learned that a South Vietnamese aviator and officer by the name of Colonel Nguyen, had been his bunkmate. The patch was that of his squadron.

The major suspected that Nguyen was involved in Lieutenant Tate's murder but could not pin point a motive as yet.

The phone rang startling him from his thoughts. It was Harriet calling from JAG.

"Bud?"

"Harriet? What are you doing at JAG this late?"

"I'm still following up on some of the information about the Hornet. I just had a visit from Clayton Webb."

"Why would Webb be visiting you?"

"Apparently he is following our investigation. He had some information that might answer a few of our questions."

She told him all that Webb had told her about SOG agents being aboard the Hornet around the time Lieutenant Tate was reported missing. The most compelling thing that Webb had said was that Colonel Nguyen had a list of American pilots that were transferred to Russian custody by the North Vietnamese during the Vietnam War. He also had warned her that the KGB was aware of this and were trying to get to the list before anyone else was able to discover it.

"I have to get in touch with the Major right away."

"Okay"

"Tell Mr. Webb that we appreciate his help."

"I will…but …"

"What Harriet?"

"I don't know, there is just something about Mr. Webb…he just seems…creepy"

"Maybe it's because he's a spook." Bud chided her and ended his call so that he could inform the Major.

2346

USS Hornet

Alameda Naval Air Station

Harm had no sense of time and space as he searched the inside of the ship. For all he knew Mac could have left ten minutes before now and it would have made no difference to him. He felt a presence of some type here, one very similar to his own. He hoped it was his father…he knew that whatever it was, it was at least connected to him somehow. Just as he returned to the hanger deck he saw the shadow of a man on the other side that seemed to be waiting for him.

"Dad?"

The figure was dressed in working khaki's, a flight jacket and a ball cap. It was hard to discern his features. Could it be his father? Harm called out again but the figure only turned and took a few steps, then looked at him again. Who ever it was wanted him to follow him, Harm knew.

As he followed him through the passageways, to the officers berthing, he stopped at #03l421P. This was not his father's quarters; he knew his last 4 digits were 226P. Why here? Harm followed the apparition into the room and he turned facing Harm.

It was not his father.

"Who are you?"

The figure faded into the bulkhead and disappeared. Harm knew it had to have been the man who had been found in the void.

Why had he wanted him to come here?

0600

Wednesday

Pier 7

Alameda Naval Air Station

Mac stood on the pier beside her Navy issue vehicle. Falcon was late…and she was chomping at the bit to get inside the ship. Mac believed that the list might be hidden in Lieutenant Tate's quarters.

She began to pace back and forth, her mind beginning to reel with the possibilities. It could blow the MIA issue wide open…possibly free men who had been stolen away from their families for decades. She remembered the good man whose voice she had heard on the tapes on the flight over here. Harm's father.

She had waited long enough; she walked to the brow of the ship and began to climb.

At that same moment, Lieutenant Falcon's vehicle pulled up beside hers.

"Hey wait!" He called as he opened the door and stood on the pier.

"Come on!" Mac's patience was at an end.

Mac felt as though her legs were moving of their own volition. She couldn't get to Lieutenant Tate's quarters fast enough. She was nearly sprinting across the hangar deck when Falcon called to her again.

"Sarah!...wait!"

Mac did not answer…she had begun to hear Harm calling her and she was focused on the sound of his voice, honing in on it, as though it were magnetically pulling her toward it. She arrived at Tate's quarters and stood just outside the hatch. She looked inside and saw Harm standing there looking at her, his eyes boring into hers as intensely as ever, his chest heaving as though he had been running.

"It's here Mac." He pointed to vent beside the bottom bunk. "I can't get to it but I know its there…the list. Get it Mac, please!"

"Okay, let me find something to open the vent with." She took a key from her pocket and used the flattened end to turn the screw securing the cover. She reached inside and removed a small book, with a hardback cover, and she opened it.

"It's written in Vietnamese, Harm"

She turned the page and then saw the names of Americans, with their rank and branch of service plainly written.

"Oh my God…they really took them." She paused as she read down the list. "Harm, its here, your father's name is on the list, Harmon Rabb Sr."

She looked up and Harm was looking at her with eyes bright with pain. "I knew it Mac. I knew he hadn't died. Maybe that's why I can't find him. Maybe he's still out there...alive."

"We'll find him Harm" She suddenly wished she could touch him now, just to reassure him somehow.

The voice of Mark Falcon broke the spell that seemed to have fallen over the room with this revelation

"Who are you talking to Sarah?"

Mac chose to ignore the question. "I found it, Mark."

"What did you find?"

"If you had gotten here sooner you would know. I have here a list of American POW"s that were taken to Russia during the Vietnam War. Some of them could still be alive. Don't you see, that's why Lieutenant Tate was killed"

"Amazing" Falcon seemed to be only mildly surprised.

Just then an explosion rocked the ship, causing Mac to drop the book.

"Let's get out of here!" Mark grabbed Mac by her arms and started to drag her out of the room.

"The book!" Harm was practically wailing but only Mac heard.

"I have to get the book!"

"I'll get it" Falcon hurried back and slipped the book into his pocket.

They made it to the hangar deck as two hatches blew open rocking the ship again, sending flame and intense heat into the air. Mac fell against a bulkhead hitting her head hard and it nearly knocked her unconscious. As she tried to clear her head, she saw Harm and someone else she didn't recognize pointing the way out. Mark helped her up and began to pull her in the opposite direction.

"No!" She was yelling at the top of her voice because of the roaring sound of the fire aboard the ship that was nearly disintegrating under their feet. "This way!" She tugged him in the direction in which Harm was guiding her.

Mark followed her and in moments they had followed their guides all the way out into the daylight and rescue.

Paramedics rushed to Lieutenant Falcon and Mac but Falcon waved them away from him, insisting that they treat Mac. He assured them he was fine.

"The book…where is the book?" Mac could not lose what was so precious to Harm and now to her.

"I have it Major. I'll be sure it is locked away in the evidence room at the Alameda Police Headquarters. Just pick it up there after they are finished with you here. You've got a nasty gash there Major, you may need stitches."

24 hours later

1830

TWA Flight 229

Approaching Washington D.C.

Mac sat with her head back on the seat, her heart heavy and ridden with guilt. She had failed her friend, and a man who might at this moment be starring at prison walls in the far reaches of Russia, beyond hope. She could still hear his voice when he spoke to Trish, Harm's mother. 'I'll be home before you know it' and 'Thank God I fly high…so there's nothing to worry about.'

Yes, there was something to worry about. She had been a fool, the KGB agent who had been trying to get his hands on the book had been Mark Falcon. She had practically handed it to him.

She closed her eyes and looked out of the window and said aloud. "I'm so sorry Harm."

Bud sat next to her on the aisle. He had turned toward her when she spoke. "Ma'am?"

Mac startled at the sound of his voice. "Oh, I'm sorry lieutenant, I was thinking out loud."

"At least we solved the case ma'am. We know now how Lieutenant Tate ended up in the void."

They had been able to accomplish that, the lieutenant had, in fact, been killed by Colonel Nguyen. He was killed because he knew about the list. Colonel Nguyen hadn't escaped either; he had been killed when the plane on which he was traveling was sabotaged on the way to Guam by a SOG double agent trying to silence him. The double agent had succeeded until now, but with the evidence stolen away practically before they had their hands on it, there was no victory in the knowledge of what they had discovered.

2242

Friday

Mac's apartment

North of Union Station

Mac sat on the side of her bed. She was physically and emotionally exhausted, yet her mind was still reeling with the events of the last few days. She glanced up at the man in the portrait. She didn't speak but shook her head. The sense of failure still so heavy upon her she could barely stand it.

Why did she care, why was this man, who longer existed in this world, so much on her mind and heart? Something happened to her when she looked into his eyes aboard the Hornet. So many emotions in them and he had trusted her, she could see and sense that.

She had showered and gotten ready for bed and as began to slip under the covers she whispered. "I'm sorry Harm."

She pulled the comforter up and resting her arms above it, looked up at the ceiling, willing herself to fall asleep.

Harm had been watching her in silence since she had come home. Her sorrow had almost matched his own and his connection to her deepened. It seemed his concerns were hers now. He hovered near her bed watching her troubled sleep. What happened hadn't been her fault. He closed his eyes and as he focused more intently on her he seemed to be pulled into her dreams. In her dream, Mac opened her eyes and started to speak but Harm silenced her with a look.

"Don't blame yourself Mac."

"But it was my fault."

"It wasn't."

He reached out to touch her arms and found that he could feel her under his hands. He caressed her cheek and she caught his hand at the wrist. He felt her human touch…warm on his skin.

"I'll find the list somehow, I'll find Falcon. Maybe that's why I can't leave Mac. There has to be a reason I'm still here." He smiled at her. "Rest Mac, there will be another chance."

With that Harm slipped out of her dream and was standing at her bedside.

Mac heaved a sigh and slipped further into her sleep, the heaviness in her heart lifted.

Harm continued to study her as she slept, it seemed the longer he was with her the less she reminded him of Diane. The senselessness of her murder would not let him rest, but something about Mac gave him an anchor, strength, even in his present state.

It seemed to him that he existed somewhere between life and death, for reasons he didn't yet understand. What was happening now was a ghost story of sorts, one he never would have believed in his lifetime.

Chapter 4

Spoilers: Any JAG episode up to and including Season 10 is fair game. We will, however, be focusing primarily on the episode, 'Death Watch,' with some references to events in 'Impact' and 'The Stalker.'(Season 3)

A/N: Many thanks to Aerogirl and Tracy for beta reading on this holiday weekend.

2100

Thursday

March 31, 1998

Mac's apartment

North of Union Station

Mac sat on one of the bar stools in the kitchen, a box sitting on the counter in front of her. It was the one Harm had told her held the letter tapes from his father. When she had returned from California she had packed the tapes away, putting them in her bedroom closet, seldom thinking about them until recently. She decided that tonight she would make a mug of tea, settle in and try to unravel the mystery that was Harmon Rabb Jr. It was a perfect setting, with a storm brewing outside, much the same as the one that seemed to bring Harm to her nearly a year ago.

Her personal life had taken what seemed to be a wild turn in the last few months and she had begun to think about her resident 'ghost' more and more. She had seen the stack of letters when she had returned the tapes to the box. She saw Harm's handwriting on the letters addressed to Diane Schonke. Her curiosity was up, and if she were honest she would have admitted to wanting to know more about the person Harm had been when he was alive.

His presence had been so comforting through the whole ordeal with Dalton and even with the stalker who had tried to force his way into her life. She had not seen Harm anywhere but her dreams in a long while, but he had been with her during that time just the same. When Dalton was murdered and she sat being interviewed by Coster, it was as though Harm had laid his hand on her shoulder. She nearly reached for it once. In her emotional state, Coster had tried to bully her and she could almost hear Harm telling her not to allow it. She hadn't.

Coster tried to do more than bully her, but with help from her CO and a tracking device from a client she had in a case she was handling, Coster wouldn't be hurting anyone ever again.

She had almost lost her way in her sobriety, but Harm had been with her then as well, if only in spirit. She came back to the apartment drunk and nearly out of her mind with guilt and grief over Dalton's murder. She had thrown a pillow at his portrait and knocked it off of the wall, screaming things at him that made no sense at all once she was sober again. She had made a small scratch in the corner of the portrait. She had passed out and thrown herself across the bed. It was his voice that woke her, telling her not to give up, and chided her about hiding in the apartment after she had made one mistake in 10 years of sobriety. He had been there, if only in her dreams. That was fine with her; maybe that was all she could handle right now.

She looked at the portrait now, the scratch barely visible, hoping Mrs. Burnett would never come and get it. She had grown attached to it. Mac hadn't heard from anyone regarding what to do with his personal effects. She felt the need to hold on to these few things of his for some reason. Thinking about Harm was safe, since he wasn't real, at least not in the sense that he could hurt her or she could hurt him. She just knew that because of him, she wasn't alone…in anything that mattered.

She reached into the box and took out the stack of letters, looking around the room as though making sure Harm wasn't standing there watching her. He was nowhere to be seen. She untied the ribbon and opened the first letter. It was short, just a few paragraphs, and to Mac's mind could have been sent to his grandmother.

"Oh, you're a real romantic, Harm," Mac said laughingly.

He had signed it 'love, Harm,' but there wasn't any of what she had seen on his face in the picture she had seen of Harm and Diane. Nothing that would explain the anger he seemed to feel when she asked about his reaction to her death.

She continued to read the remaining letters unaware that she was indeed being watched by the author of those 'romantic' letters.

Harm observed Mac, sipping her tea, smiling from time to time as she read. Somehow he didn't mind that she read them. He had begun to feel more and more comfortable with her. Harm had not allowed himself to be seen anywhere but her dreams in some time. Mac was trying to get a real life and from what he understood about her so far, she deserved one.

Dalton's murder had been a tragedy, but Harm had to admit he had not liked him from the beginning. There was something about the guy that Harm could not pinpoint that made him believe Lowne was not the man for Mac. When he saw Dalton copy notes from a file for a case in which Mac was opposing him, Harm knew then he was right. Dalton had been a liar who would do anything to win, even if it meant using Mac.

Mac was chuckling to herself then she spoke, "Oh, come on, Harm…just say it. You're in love with her. Just say it! Why are men so…stupid?"

Harm focused on Mac again and spoke aloud. "We're not all stupid, Mac."

Mac was so startled she nearly jumped off of the barstool. She was not only frightened for moment by the sound, but also felt terribly guilty for getting into his private letters to Diane.

"Oh...I'm sorry…I guess I'm being nosey."

Harm came into view, sitting on a barstool next to her, smiling charmingly. Picking up right away on her guilty look, he asked her.

"What are you up to, Mackenzie?"

Mac decided the truth was always the best answer…besides, she never really knew when he was watching.

"My curiosity got the best of me." She began to feel a blush creep up her neck.

He folded his arms and looked at her; he waited a few moments, just long enough to make her wonder what he was going to say.

"It's not a problem, Mac."

Mac let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Then she decided she would 'devil' him a bit. "Stop sneaking up on me. You have an unfair advantage."

She leaned forward and rested her arms on the counter, knocking the stack of letters to the side. The envelope on the bottom was a plain, without an address. Mac pulled it out of the stack. She waved it back and forth in front of her.

"Maybe this is one I shouldn't read." She gave him a sly grin.

Harm thought he knew about every letter in the stack. He frowned as he looked at it.

"What…you don't recognize this?" Mac raised her brows in curiosity.

"No, I don't." He had never been able to go through the old letters. The memory was too painful for him. All the possibilities ended before they had begun.

"Do you mind if I open it?" She couldn't keep from smiling mischievously.

"Go ahead."

Mac opened the letter. It was a draft of a letter written to Lieutenant Schonke's commanding officer, Commander Holbarth. She was being harassed, and he had refused to address the problem. She warned him that she would seek redress through other channels.

Mac read the last few sentences aloud. 'I do this not for myself, for this cruise is nearly over, but those female officers that will serve under you command in the future.'

She looked up and Harm was no longer sitting beside her. The room had gone completely cold. She shivered suddenly, her breaths plain to see as they increased. An intense anger gripped her and a sense of urgency that seemed to come out of nowhere.

"Harm?"

Only the storm outside could be heard. Mac's voice echoed in the room.

"You hadn't seen this before?" Mac said to no one she could see in the room. She walked around the room. "Harm, where are you?" Damn it, she hated it when he did this.

She turned and read the letter again, trying to see what had caused Harm to leave – and then she knew. Harm believed Diane's murderer was Holbarth.

"Harm…don't leave…talk to me." There was still so much she didn't know and now he had left her with this feeling of anger and helplessness. Mac did not like this; she had to find out why he was so angry and what had happened to Diane. She called out to him again.

There was still no answer. She turned toward the kitchen counter and stacked the other letters and tied them again with the ribbon. She began to think about what Bud had said to her when she first came to JAG. Mac remembered that he had worked with the lieutenant. Bud had to have known something about this case and might know who had been harassing Diane.

She picked up the handset on her phone and called Bud and told him to meet her at Headquarters. She instructed him to pull the service records of the presumed murderer, Lieutenant Lamb, Commander Holbarth and of Lieutenant Schonke. Mac also wanted the case file of the investigation of Diane's murder. If what Harm believed was true, Holbarth had gotten away with murder and he could still commanding a ship in the United States Navy.

Mac heard thunder booming from the storm and saw lightning streaking across the sky. She walked to the window and looked down to the place where her car was parked. She saw Harm standing there, his face an otherworldly white, his eyes piercingly blue, as he looked up at her. She ran to the elevator with her keys and purse in hand. When she ran out of the door of the building, the rain drenched her clothing as she searched for Harm. Again, he was nowhere to be found. She got into her vehicle and turned it toward JAG Headquarters. Between Diane's letter, which she had placed in her purse, and whatever she and Bud would be able to find, they would know for sure who had killed Diane Schonke.

2300

Highway 64 south

40 miles north of Norfolk, Virginia

Mac sped toward Norfolk and out of the storm that still seemed to be pounding Washington. Bud had offered her a change of clothing in the form of Harriet's uniform, and Mac had reluctantly taken it. The rain had chilled her to the bone and she had to get to Norfolk or she would lose the opportunity to confront Commander Holbarth. Bud had been able to find out when Holbarth would be leaving the ship. He would be coming off the watch at 2400. Holbarth was stationed aboard the USS Shepherd, a DDG that had pulled into port earlier that day.

She could not understand the urgency she felt…the need to get there as quickly as she could. Her body was nearly trembling with energy, her teeth were chattering, but she did not feel chilled. Mac felt again as though her body was not her own. Harm was here, with her, at this moment it felt as though he were inside her very being. She was racing toward a confrontation and she had no earthly idea what exactly she was going to say or do.

The evidence she and Bud had uncovered was damning against Commander Holbarth. They were sure he was in fact the murderer, but they didn't have evidence that would stand up in court. The draft of the letter Diane had written had been the piece of the puzzle that had been missing for years. The problem was it would not be admissible in court. Holbarth had not come through the incident unscathed; he had lost a command after Commander Krennick's investigation of his failure to follow up on the lieutenant's reported sexual harassment claims.

As Mac drove, doubts and her own common sense began to battle with her resolve to face Diane's murderer. She would be confronting a superior officer, while she stood there in the wrong uniform, accusing him of something she might not be able to prove in court. What did she expect him to say? Surely he wouldn't just confess and turn himself over to the authorities. She could be standing before the admiral, in a hell of a lot of trouble, tomorrow morning.

"Harmon Rabb," she thought aloud, "you'd better be right about this."

His voice was an echo inside the vehicle. "I am, Mac…and you know it."

2400

Pier 7

D and S piers

Naval Station Norfolk

Mac sat in her vehicle, watching as the men and women who had just stood the watch filed down the ships brow. She got out of her vehicle and walked toward the USS Shepherd where it was docked at the pier. She had seen Holbarth's photograph in his service record but there was the heavy mist of fog around the pier. What if she didn't recognize him? She kept walking toward at man who looked as though he might be Commander Holbarth.

"It's him." Harm's voice was plain and clear but only to her.

She stopped about 10 yards in front of him and called out to him. "Commander Holbarth."

He looked up at her and as he walked toward her he recognized her as Lieutenant Diane Schonke. He stopped and raised his hands. "My God…Schonke."

He began to back away, staggering and falling as he went.

Mac stepped more quickly toward him, seeing that he was stepping back toward the edge of the pier. "Wait!"

"No! No! I didn't mean…I'm sorry…I'm sorry—"

After his last word he fell backward off of the pier into the water. He plunged into the water between the ship and the concrete of the pier, his cries for help covered by the murky sea water almost before he could make a sound. The officer of the deck aboard the Shepherd had seen him fall but he had not seen Mac.

She backed away and turned to walk toward her vehicle, listening as the word went out that there was a man overboard. Her body was still trembling with energy but she also felt a sense of relief. A murderer had met justice in a way no court could provide.

0515

April 1, 1998

Mac's apartment

North of Union Station

When Mac walked into her apartment, she had stripped out of her clothing and fallen into bed. She fell into a deep sleep almost immediately. As morning approached, she began to try to pull herself out of her slumber as she did every morning, her body clock always at work, telling her the time even when she was asleep. She seemed to slipping into a dream. She was back on the pier, but no one was there but her and Harm.

She looked up at him as he stared at her. His eyes were full of gratitude and something else, something deeper and truer than she had ever seen before.

Tonight she felt as though she were one with him. She had felt his rage after she had read Diane's letter and as she drove toward Washington. It had been a frightening and strangely exhilarating experience, she felt as though she were going to meet justice last night. A terrible wrong had been made right.

In her dream she spoke to him.

"I could feel how angry you were; I could barely contain it, Harm. I think that if you were still…"

"Alive, I could have killed him?" He finished her sentence.

"Yes…could you have?"

"I guess we'll never know."

He began to look at her as he had on the Hornet, his gaze piercing into her soul.

As if in slow motion, he leaned down to kiss her. His lips were warm and soft and his kiss was drawing her in. Mac turned her head slightly, deepening the kiss, taking them further away from reality than they already were. She came to herself after a long moment and pulled back to look at him. He was seeing Diane…wasn't he? Surely that sweet and tender kiss could not be for her. She could not help but think once again how wonderful it would be to be loved like that.

She turned to her side, still sleeping lightly and as she did she spoke aloud. "Harm?"

Harm was there, watching her in her now restless sleep. Justice had been done after all this time in Diane's murder. Mac had believed him, and spoke of Diane as though she had been a real person, not just a victim in a murder case. Mac had gone to the wall for him yet again and he could put this pain to rest. Wherever Diane was, he hoped she was at peace, but now the question was…why wasn't he?

Mac turned again to lie on her back, still talking to him softly as she slept. "I know…you were kissing her."

Harm came to her bedside hovering just above her. Why did she tug at his heart so much? Why was he never able to be very far from where she was? He studied her beautiful face and asked aloud.

"Was I?"

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A Ghost Story

Chapter 5

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. All rights to the story and movie, 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' belong to Twentieth Century Fox Incorporated. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG episode through Season 10 is fair game. We will focus primarily on "The People vs. Mac' and 'Soul Searching' in this chapter.

A/N: Thanks to Aerogirl for her beta reading skills and excellent input.

2340

Tuesday

November, 17 1998

Holding Cell

5th Precinct

Washington D.C.

Mac sat on the metal bench, waiting for Bud to arrive and hopefully get her out of here. The cell smelled of body odor and urine and something else that she didn't even want to think about. She had shot Chris Ragle tonight. It hadn't been intentional, but that didn't matter. He was dead.

Bud was at that moment speaking with the arresting officer and his superiors. He'd been authorized to speak on the admiral's behalf, and the local police were allowing NCIS to further investigate and the government to handle Mac's possible prosecution. It was a long process, but it looked as though she would be transferred to the US Naval Brig there in the District.

Mac scooted to end of the bench and closed her eyes, only to be struck with the image of Chris's surprised and pained expression as he died, literally, in her arms. She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to banish the image.

Her life had been in a tailspin over the past two weeks. Chris brought with him what he always had, utter chaos and bone-melting desire. She had resisted him this time; she had surprised him and herself when his kisses and the memory of what they'd once had failed to draw her in. Chris had found a way into her life anyway.

Now, because she had even allowed him near her, she would probably be sent away for the rest of her life. And now because of her, Lieutenant Colonel John Farrow's career was, for all intents and purposes, over. Assuming he could stay out of Leavenworth.

She opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at the woman who sat next to her. She wore tattered jeans and a stained T shirt. Her complexion was pasty and her hair, thin and parted in the middle, hung limply in a dull black tangle down her back. Her arms were thin and marked with scars, probably from needle marks. The woman was trembling visibly, and as Mac looked at her, she asked,

"What are you looking at? You got a problem?" Anger seemed to radiate from the woman's every pore.

Mac wordlessly shook her head and turned around on the end of the bench. She was near a window, and could see the clear night outside through the bars. She still couldn't understand how this happened. She had wanted to get away from Chris, but never in her wildest dreams did she ever think of killing him. Intentions didn't matter now, though; she understood already where the evidence would point. Her prints were on the gun, and she had powder burns on her hands. It was already over and she knew it.

She looked away from the window and saw a shadow in the corner of the room. She blinked and tried to focus. It was Harm; he was there, crouched down, just a few feet from her at her eye level. Drawing in a breath in surprise, she covered her mouth, not wanting to attract attention to herself.

Harm brought his finger to his lips to try and calm her and remind her that she was the only one who could see him.

Mac felt such relief at seeing him that she felt tears stinging in her eyes. She took another breath to calm herself.

"It wasn't your fault, Mac. I saw it; you didn't mean to shoot him." His voice resonated in her ears, reaching down into her heart. He had come to her as if he had been summoned, at the perfect time.

Mac shook her head and began to cry silently. The woman beside her on the bench sensed that she was crying and reacted immediately.

"If you're gonna bawl like a little girl, get the hell off this bench! What in the hell do you have to cry about anyway, Miss Uptown?"

She had noticed the nice clothing Mac wore, the clean manicured nails and the salon haircut. Women like that made her sick; what could she know about having to survive in the world, with no one to help you?

"Go on, get off!"

Mac stood and stepped over to the window, turning her back to everyone as she tried to compose herself. She was calming down, in spite of everything that was happening. She knew she had to get it under control or she would be in a great deal of trouble before she even left this cell. Who knew how long it would take to get out of here?

Harm stood next to her now, and when she glanced to the side, his patient and reassuring smile was there, comforting her to her soul. She had no idea why he was still with her; she only thanked God that he was. How she wished she could just turn into his arms and disappear. She needed to feel safe, if only for a moment.

He seemed to know what she was thinking as he answered her. "You are safe, Mac, and you are going to get out of here."

The darkness in the cell concealed her glance to the side when she saw Harm standing close to her. Then she turned just slightly to see him more plainly. He looked down at her with a touching familiarity, like someone he had great affection for. His expression held none of the fear or tension she felt. The look in his eyes reassured her without a word.

She wanted to speak, tell him everything, and spill her heart out to the only one she trusted. He was not a man, though, but a spirit; he could not help her now.

"I am a spirit, Mac, but I was human once. I remember the need to talk, to feel someone close to me." His eyes took on a sad expression.

Mac nodded almost in perceptively, fearing detection by her 'friend' sitting on the bench a couple of yards away.

She closed her eyes and thought hard about what she wanted to say to him. He seemed to know anyway. The first words that came to her mind were, 'Thank you.'

He smiled softly and leaned on the sill of the window, leaning more closely in so that they were nearly face to face. Mac could have sworn she saw a spark of something in his eyes. He answered her.

"You're welcome. Now…suck it up, Marine. Lieutenant Roberts is on his way down to get you out of here."

2332

Friday

November 20, 1998

Mac's apartment

North of Union Station

Mac lay sleeping fitfully in her bed. She had been in bed for an hour and still restful sleep eluded her. The events of the past few days were playing over and over again in her mind. Harm was watching over her, though now that Chris Ragle was dead, he knew she was not in danger anymore.

She had been able to avoid brig time with some fast talking by Lieutenant Roberts – and also some intervention on the admiral's part, Harm was sure. She wasn't out of the woods yet. That self-serving arrogant bastard Mic Brumby was going to do everything he could to get his client, John Farrow, off. He would do it even if winning meant trashing Mac and ruining her career. Farrow was implicated in the murder as well because of his past relationship with Mac, a relationship that Ragle had tried to use as blackmail. Thank God she had a good CO now and Farrow was honorable enough not to allow anything else to be said or done that would hurt Mac.

Now they would have to wait until court resumed Monday. Evidence had come to light from Benny Turpin, a loan shark whom Chris had owed and who Lieutenant Roberts thought might exonerate Mac. Harm knew it was just a matter of time; Mac would be back at JAG where she belonged.

He smiled when he thought of the conversation he had witnessed in the admiral's office yesterday afternoon. It was one of the times when being a 'ghost' had been an advantage. Brumby had nearly been bounced out on his ear. He had acted like an ass and the admiral had put him quickly in his place.

He had said one thing that had stuck with him, though. '….you're all just a little bit in love with her.' His expression turned serious when he thought, 'Who wouldn't love Mac?' To be working with her every day, to have to opportunity to love her like any other man… he knew he would never have passed up the chance.

Now he watched as she wrestled with her blankets and pillows, trying to get comfortable and fall deep enough into her sleep to make the pain and guilt she felt go away. He wondered again: why was he so connected to her?

He'd thought that when he found out about what had actually happened to his father he would find the peace he needed to rest and leave this place. Anything would be better than this limbo he was living in. Not dead but not alive.

Mac seemed at times to be living for him. She'd gone to Russia, with the help of Clayton Webb, and had been able to find out exactly where his father had been taken. Webb had used Mac's language skills and her knowledge of the existence of the book they found on the Hornet for his own purposes. It contained the names of POWs from the Vietnam War that were taken to Russia. Her presence there and her search drew out two former KGB agents who wanted that book destroyed and were involved in some shady arms deals. At great risk to her life, she had followed up on Harm's suspicions and found a woman, Pitchta, who had taken his father in. Harm Sr. had nearly killed himself trying to escape the prison in Siberia, only to be killed trying to defend Pitchta from a group of thugs who were trying to rape her. Through it all, Mac had been so brave and levelheaded. Now, because of Chris Ragle, the foundations of her life were crumbling beneath her feet.

He drew in closer to her, continuing to watch as she struggled with her dreams. She spoke groggily, still deep in slumber. "Harm…why can't you be real?"

"I'm real, Mac." He was trying to reach out to her and convince her that she was not alone.

"In my dreams…do you want to be in my dreams, Commander?"

"Red light, Major." It had been a while since he'd had to use the traffic signals, he thought, a grin spreading across his face.

Mac smiled then, the first smile Harm has seen since this whole fiasco had begun. He slipped into her slumbering mind and Mac saw him. He was dressed as he was in his portrait, in his khakis and looking as handsome as ever, and he seemed to be waiting for her. His body was surrounded by a grayish white mist and smoke. Mac was moving toward him but did not feel herself walking.

Harm gave her a welcoming smile and enveloped her into his arms. Oh, this was wonderful, she thought. His chest was solid and warm under cheek and she could hear it… his heartbeat. She drew back and gave him a questioning look.

"I don't know, Mac; I just know I can feel you in my arms here in this place but not in the real world."

He savored the feeling of holding and being held. He knew now his connection was to her and he had no idea why. It had not been Diane and solving her murder, it had not been finding out what happened to his father – it had been about being here for Mac.

Mac had never felt such a sense of belonging in her life. She felt his hands stroke her back and comfort her. She felt all the fears and tensions leave her; she was safe, here with Harm. She spoke her thoughts aloud. "Oh…I've needed to be here for so long, I've needed to feel your arms around me…don't let go, please."

"I never will…" Harm knew now that he couldn't even if he wanted to.

Mac felt herself sinking deeper into his arms, slipping away from her conscious dream, finding the rest she had been seeking since she lay down that evening.

1830

May 11, 1999

Tuesday

JAG Headquarters

Mac sat behind Admiral Chegwidden's desk as she finished for the day. He had left yesterday with Clayton Webb. She had been surprised, given their altercation last fall in Russia, but something Webb told him yesterday must have made him change his mind, at least about this trip. Webb still bore a small scar on the bridge of his nose from the 'decking' he'd received from the admiral, for endangering one of his 'people.'

It had been relatively quiet for the past couple of days, and Mac was grateful. She and Bud had worked on the budget proposals for Headquarters; she decided that in that regard, Bud was brilliant. She leaned back in her chair and ran her hand over the smooth mahogany wood of the admiral's desk. About six months ago she'd thought she'd never be sitting in this chair, never mind be acting JAG while the admiral was away. Life was very different for her now.

She had become a 'Big Sister' to a troubled young girl named Chloe Anderson. She was able to help her reconnect with her father, Chief Kyle Anderson, who hadn't even been aware of her existence until he was informed by Mac. Chloe had filled a void in her life, the one that wanted to nurture and to be a mother someday. Thoughts of Chloe never failed to turn her mind to her own parents.

She had dealt with the death of her father two weeks ago and also her abandonment by her mother. Harm had convinced her to go see her father before he died, and though she had not been able to speak to him, it gave her a measure of peace and closure where her father was concerned.

Her mother had been another matter. With that thought she stood and walked over to the window to look out into the courtyard in front of JAG Headquarters. She crossed her arms in front of her, almost hugging herself. She remembered having to ask her mother to hold her. She had come to tell her that her father had just died. Her mother did not stand and walk to her, she had not opened her arms to comfort her, Mac had had to ask to be held.

"It's over…" she thought aloud. She shook off that feeling and tried to focus on the positive.

She understood more now, more about her father and her mother, and somehow it assuaged the bitterness she'd carried in her heart all those years. Her parents weren't perfect, far from it, but maybe they had just done the best they could at the time. Her father was beyond it all now and her mother… well, her mother was just what she was. As long as Mac didn't need anything from her, they would get along just fine.

She smiled as she remembered a dream she had, the one in which Harm held her. It made her feel safe and loved. The feeling she had from that dream somehow reassured her that she was worthy of love, that the wrongs done to her in her life were not her fault. She could go on and leave the past behind her.

She missed Harm suddenly; she hadn't seen him in some time. When she'd decided to go see her father before he died, it seemed Harm had been in her thoughts, but she did not see him.

The shadows in the room had begun to get deeper and Mac started to return to the admiral's desk. She once again spoke her thoughts aloud. "It's getting dark in here."

"Is it?" Harm answered her, startling her as she reached for the small light on the desk.

"Harm," she said in a loud whisper, though Tiner had left for the day an hour ago. "I told you, I really hate that."

"Sorry. I really didn't do it on purpose this time." Harm stood with his arms folded in front of his chest, casually leaning against the admiral's desk not two feet from where she stood.

"I was just thinking about you." Mac couldn't keep from smiling at him.

"I know."

"You know? What else do you know, Sailor?" She matched his casual pose, folding her arms in front of her chest.

"I know you turned down a date with one of DC's finest today." Mac had had to contact Detective Bigi on behalf of a poor sailor who'd been unfortunate enough to have parked his Corvette on the wrong street in DC. It had been stolen and was probably in pieces an hour after he found that it was missing.

Mac blushed; she was just not ready to go out with anyone right now. She felt like the kiss of death since Chris, though she would never have said that to anyone aloud. She wasn't ready for anything or anyone else. Besides, she wasn't lonely anymore; she had Harm.

"I don't count, Mac." Surely she knew by now how well he knew her, or how her thoughts, when he was near her like this, were part of his own being…such as it was.

"I think you do, and to tell you the truth…I don't want to deal with anyone other than you right now."

Harm's brow knitted but he kept his smile in place. "I know you probably meant that as a compliment…but…"

"Stop it, Harm… you know what I mean."

"I suppose so…but it's no kind of life for you."

Harm was trying to stay away, though his life was a void without her. He cared enough about her now to want everything for her, including a full life. He knew Brumby was trying to weasel his way into her life, but Mac was too smart for that. She had forgiven his behavior during her ordeal with Ragle, as a professional, but he didn't believe she would ever trust him.

And besides… there was just no chemistry there.

Chapter 6

Spoilers: Any JAG episode through Season 10. Our focus this time will be primarily 'Boomerang I and II.' 'Retreat, Hell' and 'JAG TV.' We will also refocus on the movie again briefly, with the basic premise in place.

A/N; Dialogue will not be exact or in order…this is a fictional fiction and I'm having my way with it.

0930

Tuesday

February 8, 2000

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Mac sat at her computer terminal feeling absolutely miserable. It was 11 degrees Fahrenheit outside, and four more inches of snow were expected before the end of the day, which was in addition to the six inches that had fallen yesterday. Making her day complete was the fact that she had a head cold that had been hanging on since late last week.

Her computer had just informed her of a new message with its familiar 'you've got mail.' She didn't want to look; she knew it was Mic Brumby trying to needle her again by sending air and water temperatures in Australia. He had returned home to Australia two months ago and had been e-mailing regularly and occasionally calling.

Mac shivered as she read 85 degrees with the water temperature at 78. A sneeze took her by surprise and she grabbed a Kleenex from the box on her desk. She was beginning to think she was going to clean out all the tissues from the supply cabinet if she didn't get rid of this cold soon. She was chilled to the bone as well; the two cups of coffee since she had arrived this morning had not been able to ward off the chill.

Mic had very considerately sent along a picture of himself at the beach, waving at whoever was taking the picture. What was it about this man? She was attracted to him, she loved that he wanted her, but she knew her feelings did not match his. Mac knew it was more than attraction on Mic's part and she wasn't ready to go there; she was tired of one-sided relationships. Maybe she would never love anyone enough to give her whole heart to. Still, he was handsome, in his own way and…there was that body. Mac smiled and then suddenly sneezed again. 'Oh yeah,' she thought, 'really sexy, I'd just be a knockout with this nasty cold on the beach with Mic.' She wasn't ready for anything like that, that was for sure.

Bud knocked on the frame of her door, startling her from her reverie.

"Excuse me, Colonel; the admiral would like to see us ASAP."

"I'll be right there. Thank you, Lieutenant.'

"Ma'am." Bud came to attention and turned to walk toward the admiral's office.

Mac turned back to look at the picture of Mic grinning devilishly at her. Suddenly she felt infuriated, and clicked 'delete' with a vengeance.

"Jerk!" she growled to no one listening, or so she thought.

Harm had been watching her all morning. He'd stayed a little closer lately; he was beginning to get worried about her, and it wasn't because of her cold.

He knew what she had been thinking. Mic was beginning to wear her down. Harm knew he couldn't be the one she needed, but he sure as hell knew Mic wasn't either. Mic wanted to own her. For him, it wasn't about love, Harm knew. Unfortunately, Mac hadn't seen enough of the real thing to know the difference.

Mac joined Bud and Lieutenant Commander Mattoni in the admiral's office. The officers came to attention and were ordered to stand at ease and then be seated...

"Lieutenant Commander Brumby of the RAN has requested assistance from this office in a murder investigation and possible trial, of a Petty Officer Kevin Lee. The sailor was thought to be deceased, but evidence has come to light that he took the identity of Seaman Ian Dunsmore of the RAN and may have in fact been involved in his murder."

Mac shook her head slightly. How transparent could Mic be?

"Is there a problem, Major?"

Mac straightened in her seat. "No… sir. When will we be leaving?"

"You won't be. Commander Brumby has requested Lieutenant Roberts and Lieutenant Commander Mattoni in this investigation, and you are to help distribute their case loads."

The admiral looked at the other two officers. "Mattoni, Roberts, you will see Petty Officer Tiner for your travel itineraries." The admiral looked at all of them. "You have your orders, you're dismissed."

Mac was shocked and more than a little embarrassed. 'That creep!' she thought, her face flushing red with anger. All the weather reports and notes requesting that she take some leave to come and see him. Now when she had a chance to go, he doesn't request her but Mattoni? Bud? What a JERK!

The officers filed out of the admiral's office, with Mac leading the way and heading straight to her office.

Harm observed her as she slammed the door and plopped down into her chair. Oh, Mic was playing her alright and Mac was falling for it…hard. Mic was smarter than he'd given him credit for. Why did he have the feeling of watching a shark close in on its prey?

He thought of making himself known, but what could he say? He was just the shadow of a man, and Mac was lonely, he knew. She needed someone who could actually be in her life and he could not be that. He just had the hell of watching her pick the wrong man. Surely Mac was smarter than that, but he had no right to choose for her.

2115

Tuesday

February 15, 2000

Sydney Harbor

Sydney, Australia

Mac stood near the rail of the ferry, looking out at the water and the bridge whose lights winked above her in the sky like stars. She looked up at the bridge as the ferry passed under it and said aloud, "Eternity." She had read somewhere that on New Years Eve that word had been written across the bridge in lights. Mac smiled when she thought that it had seemed an eternity since anyone had held her in their arms. She had come out alone tonight to try and clear her head and take in some of the sights alone. Alone – another word she was getting tired of.

The admiral had allowed her to accompany the body of the Australian sailor who had been buried in Kevin Lee's family plot, back to Australia. She had a few days before she had to return, and she had been grateful for the break. She felt that even though she'd arrived two days ago, she only just now beginning to warm up. Going to Manly Beach yesterday had been wonderful; the sun felt so good on her skin, it had warmed her all the way to her bones.

Mic had been very attentive, as always, and his attention was always flattering, but there was something possessive about it too. Mic always seemed to push her one step further than she wanted to go, on a lot of levels. She didn't really know what to do about him.

Mac heaved a sigh and walked to the upper deck of the ferry, trying to find a spot that would allow her to be alone with her thoughts. What was she doing? Here was this great guy, someone who admired her, wanted her in his life without reservation. She was attracted to him, she liked him. He was a good attorney, though he could be a bit of a snake at times.

Why was she fighting this so hard?

"Maybe because you don't really want him, you just don't want to be alone." Harm materialized right beside her.

Mac startled. "You know, you would think I'd get used to this by now." She spoke under her breath though there was no one on her end of the ferry.

Harm smiled and leaned against the rail. "Apparently not."

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was still a whisper.

"I just wanted to see you. You look beautiful tonight, you know."

Mac wore a sweater in a beautiful shade of green that hugged her curves and that was just off of her shoulders. Her skirt accentuated the curve at her hips, making her look enticingly feminine. The sun had turned her shoulders the color of cinnamon and had left the tip of her nose pink. He had never wanted to touch her so badly since he had begun this journey with her four years ago. There was something about tonight; she was at a crossroads of sorts in her life. Harm felt that the decisions she made during this trip would change everything for both of them.

Mac blushed. "Thank you."

"So it's you and Mic, huh?"

"I don't know. He is a nice guy."

Harm smirked, thinking that was a matter of opinion.

"You don't like him?"

"I don't really have an opinion. It's none of my business." His voice had an edge to it that Mac hadn't heard in a long time.

"What going on here, Sailor? Are you angry with me?"

"I'm not angry with you, maybe the situation. I can't do anything about it. I just stand on the side lines and watch."

"Sometimes I wonder why you're still with me, why you aren't somewhere else. You could be with your father, or with Diane. I know you loved her."

"I don't know, Mac, I seem to be focused on you." The love he had for Diane wasn't part of him anymore and he truly didn't know why he wasn't with his father.

Mac joked, "Maybe we were star crossed lovers in another life."

Harm looked at her seriously. "Maybe."

"You don't believe that, do you?" She gave him a questioning look.

"Considering that I never thought this kind of existence was possible, yeah, maybe I do." He folded his arms in front of his chest, waiting for her reaction.

"But I can't live my life…"

"For me…I know…I would never ask you to. Maybe I need to go away. Let you get on with your life."

Mac felt a panic rise up inside her. "Why should you do that?"

"I'm interfering, Mac, and you're all alone. Maybe it's my fault that Brumby is so attractive to you."

"What?" This was one argument she hadn't expected.

"Think about it. If you didn't have me, to talk to, to trust and feel safe with, would you even give him the time of day?" Brumby was a snake; if he went away, maybe she would see that more clearly. Harm looked at her, his eyes nearly glowing with emotion.

"If there wasn't an "us," would you honestly consider him?"

Mac was stunned into silence, her mind reeling with memories of coming into her apartment and knowing he was there, even when he didn't show himself. The times she was afraid through her trial, when she feared she could lose everything, he was there. His steadfastness gave her hope, helped her find her own strength. He had become her anchor, without her realizing it had happened.

She turned from him, hoping he wouldn't see the confusion he had caused in her mind.

"Do you really think I don't know, Mac?" He came closer to her. "I have to leave you alone for a while; I can't stay here and watch you…"

He couldn't stand by and watch her make the mistake of letting Mic Brumby into her life. No matter what he felt, it didn't change who they were. He couldn't be anything more to her than a dream of someone, a 'ghost' of a man.

"Harm…don't go away…no matter what happens…I don't want to lose you."

She had turned around and looked at him, trying to convince him of what she knew in her heart was true. Mac needed Harm; he gave her the emotional security her life had always lacked. She would never forget the peace she felt just being in his arms, if only in her dreams.

"I can't be what you need, Mac, and I don't want to interfere in your life. I don't know where I'll go, but I'm backing away for a while."

"Okay, I can accept backing away, if you feel you have to. Just don't leave me completely."

"I won't." His expression was sad.

With that he faded from her sight.

1445

Saturday

Qantas flight 298

Somewhere over the Pacific.

Lieutenant Roberts and Commander Mattoni accompanied the prisoner Kevin Lee back to the United States. He had been able to beat a murder charge in the case of Seaman Ian Dunsmore, but he wouldn't escape his desertion during the Vietnam War. The admiral had taken an interest in this case in particular; he was sure Petty Officer Lee would be serving his time in Leavenworth for a very long while.

Mac rested her head on the back of the seat and closed her eyes. She felt the weight of the diamond cause her ring to slide around her finger. She looked down at it, using her other fingers to adjust it. It was beautiful. Mic's proposal had been something straight out of the movies. She looked at the ring, which she'd agreed to accept only if she wore it on her right hand. Mic called it a miracle that had fallen down from the Southern Cross. She had been completely swept off her feet as he told her he was falling in love with her. She was getting on with her life, as Harm had asked – and Mic was real, while Harm could never be.

Harm was still staying close, though; he just didn't make himself known, and he could not be anywhere near her when Brumby was around. The only consolation he had was that Mic was staying in Australia and Mac was returning to the States. He watched her as she laid her head back again and closed her eyes. A question occurred to him.

"How could she have gone to him so fast?"

1830

Tuesday

October, 31 2000

Mac's apartment

North of Union Station

Mac was pacing her apartment, angrier than she had ever been at Mic Brumby. What did he mean, 'fiancée?' She still wore her ring on her right hand. How dare he take the decision out of her hands? Didn't he know how much pressure she was under now? She told him how she felt about this case. Going up against a very famous lawyer and also her former law professor, a woman who had belittled her and, in those days, seemed to take pleasure in every mistake she made. Juanita Ressler would try to use anything she could, fair and unfair, to win this case. She was prosecuting Ensign Susan Kingsley for the murder of Ms. Misty James. The ensign had caught her husband, Lieutenant j.g. Andrew Kingsley, in an affair with the victim. The defendant pleaded self-defense, but her husband had told Mac during the Article 32 investigations that Susan Kingsley had attacked and murdered Misty James.

Mac picked up the phone and dialed a now familiar number. She told him in the most colorful language that she wasn't very happy with what he had done. His answering machine had picked up.

"You don't tell the media that were engaged when we're not…and at this rate we're not damn well likely to be." She even threatened to use a lead pipe on him. He had better call her back or there wouldn't be anything to talk about…ever.

As she began pacing again, she looked up at Harm's portrait. She could see it from where she stood plainly. Maybe Harm had been right about Mic, damn him. She still missed Harm.

Harm had been as good as his word; he left her alone…as far as Mac knew.

The trial wore on; with daily reports form Trial TV about the case and about her personal life. When she was summoned by the admiral about the article in People magazine, although Mac had been livid, he had advised her well. She used the media the way Ms Ressler had at the beginning of the trial and in the end it had won the case for her.

After the trial was over and she had won her case, the media closed in on her as she exited JAG Headquarters. The reporter shoved a microphone in her face and asked her, "How would you assess the performance of both attorneys in this case?"

"I would fault Ms. Ressler for obscuring the truth and I fault myself for using trickery to reveal it."

0900

Tuesday

February 27, 2001

JAG Headquarters

Mac sat behind the admiral's desk, feeling very satisfied with herself. He had asked her to be acting JAG again while he was away. The admiral was taking a much deserved vacation. She was feeling more and more confident about her place at JAG. She was now chief of staff, and her ability to win the first televised military trial hadn't hurt her career either.

Bud had asked to see her regarding a wrongful arrest and confinement. Owen Zugler was suing the Navy in this case. It seemed this poor unfortunate soul had spent over a month in the brig because someone had stolen his identity to enlist in the Navy and had gone UA.

Tiner buzzed Mac's temporary office.

"I have Lieutenant Roberts for you, ma'am."

"Send him in."

Bud entered the office and came to attention.

"At ease, Lieutenant – have a seat."

"Ma'am."

Bud sat down, not knowing where he was going to begin. Mic Brumby had just left his office. 'Brumby and Brumby,' his card had said. He was asking a ridiculous amount of money for pain and suffering, lost wages and punitive damages for his client. He wondered if Colonel Mackenzie was even aware of her fiancée's presence in the office this morning.

"So your client has hired an attorney?"

"Yes, ma'am, and he's asking for over two million dollars in damages."

"What?"

Bud decided the best way to tell the colonel was to show her the attorney's card.

Mac looked at the card. "Brumby and Brumby?"

She looked at Bud, incredulous. What the hell? She meant to push back her chair to stand but did not quite push back far enough. It tipped back and Mac's body weight brought it the rest of the way backward and over.

Bud lept from his chair to help her. Mac was out cold. Bud shook her at her shoulders to try and rouse her, and she came awake, slowly. As Bud helped her up she tried to brush him away.

"I'm all right – Commander, I'm fine."

"Commander, ma'am?" Bud frowned in confusion.

"Lieutenant Roberts, I'm fine. I'll deal with….Brumby and Brumby." She stood and straightened her uniform.

Bud did back away… warily. "Yes, ma'am."

"You're dismissed."

"Ma'am." Bud came to attention, turned on his heel and left the room.

Mac sat back down at her desk and called Brumby and Brumby. She got the answering machine. Choosing not to leave a message, she replaced the handset on the receiver, deep in thought. How could he do this and not tell her anything about it?

She looked up from her desk and was nearly speechless at what she saw. It was Harm, looking resplendent in his dress whites, his gold wings gleaming above the ribbons on his chest.

"Harm….you look…different." He was walking toward her now, with a smoldering and seductive look in his eyes.

He had never looked at her that way before. Had he decided to come back into her life… now? She and Mic were getting ready to set a date for their wedding; she had finally moved the ring to the left hand. She tried to look away to clear her vision, but Harm looked so….good.

He walked all the way up to the front of her desk and, resting his hands on it, leaned toward her. He spoke in a voice hushed and deep.

"You know what they say about dress whites and gold wings don't you, Mac?"

"I…I heard they can be overrated." Mac swallowed hard; she didn't think she sounded very convincing.

"Wouldn't you like the opportunity to find out?" The look in his eyes made it clear that he had one particular way in mind.

Mac smiled slyly and answered. "Maybe."

Harm's sexy smile spread slowly across his face. "Maybe?"

"Yeah…Flyboy." Mac was looking at him and as she returned his seductive gaze, she noticed the flecks of green in the blue of his eyes. Her gaze shifted to the fullness of his lips.

Tiner chose that time to knock once and open her door. "Ma'am?" Did she call him 'Flyboy?' He noticed the colonel looked a little dazed.

Mac startled. "What is it, Tiner?"

"Were you talking to someone, ma'am?"

"No, of course not. What is it, Tiner?" Mac hid her embarrassment behind her authority.

"I need your signature, ma'am, if I'm going to get these to the courier before noon."

Tiner brought the forms to her and she signed them. After he left the room she decided she would only look up from her desk when she absolutely had to.

At the days end she was finally able to get hold of Mic and what he said made her wonder if she had known him at all.

"Sarah, every time I make a decision I don't want to have to climb over you. You're just going to have to trust that I know what I'm doing is right for both of us."

His last words before he ended the call cut the deepest. She questioned his making a career out of prosecuting the Navy and the conflict it would cause in their relationship.

"How is what I'm doing any different from what you do everyday? You're prosecuting the Navy…the only difference is, you get to wear the uniform."

Once again he had thrown what he had given up in her face to try and control her. He had also reminded her of his sacrifice when she had finally agreed to a true engagement. If this was what he was like before they were married, how would he be when she was his wife?

2338

Tuesday

Mac's apartment.

North of Union Station

Mac slept fitfully, tossing and turning. She replayed all the events of the day in her mind. She thought of her discovery of Mic's new 'job.' His attitude toward her when she confronted him about it had made her feel as though she had been at fault for questioning him. He had completely dismissed her concerns, telling her he was looking out for 'their' future, that 'she' was tying his hands. She also thought of Harm. The vision she'd had couldn't have been the Harm she knew; what she felt when she looked at him was entirely different from her memory of 'her' Harm. What she felt was powerful, sensual, and it drew her like a magnet. If Tiner hadn't come in when he did, she would have been wrapping herself around him.

When she left for the day, she'd called Mic and told him that she wanted to stay alone at her apartment tonight, needing time to clear her head. The problem was that this quiet time wasn't helping at all; it seemed to be making it worse. Mac turned on to her side, pulling down one of the pillows to wrap her arms around it. As she tried to slip deeper into sleep, Harm called to her.

"Mac." His voice was a whisper in her unconscious mind.

Mac frowned in her sleep and then smiled as she remembered. "Harm." She had missed the sound of his voice so much.

He came into view, standing in the mist as he had before – only this time he was shirtless, wearing jeans that fit him as she had always thought they would. She had only seen him in uniform until now. They revealed the cut of the muscle on his lower abdomen. The strength and definition of his body drew her eye to every line on his shoulders and torso. She wanted to touch him and as she thought it she did. He pulled her close, and his embrace was warm and loving, giving her that feeling of belonging that she had only with him. When she pulled back to look at him, he took her hand from where it now rested on his chest. As he raised it to his lips he winked at her. He knew what she was feeling: she wanted him and he had no intention of disappointing her.

"Harm? I don't understand. I thought... that is, I believed that you and I, we were special, that we were on another level of love and respect… friendship." She barely recognized her own voice.

"And you think because you see me this way…we aren't?" Harm's eyes darkened and he pulled her closer to him. He kissed her, deep and long, with more love and passion than Mac had ever felt in her life. This was a dream…a wonderful dream of love. She wouldn't let it go, even if it wasn't real. Once in her life she would feel this loved and wanted for herself alone.

It seemed they were spinning in space as Harm's lips left hers and trailed down her jaw line to her neck. Clothing or restraints of any kind left them and in moments they were making love. Real love. His every touch seemed to set her on fire. She felt him tremble under her hands, his eyes begging her for more. It seemed they were soul to soul. Desire and release flowed through her, from her core to her heart. Every touch seemed to spiral her body higher, and the feeling took her breath, leaving her wanting more of him.

"This is what love is supposed to be, Mac; you deserve to be loved like this."

She knew now, what was missing from hers and Mic's relationship, this connection that had sustained her for so long.

"I know, I know…" Mac felt tears start to flow down her cheeks.

Harm pulled her back from him to see her face and gently wiped the tears from her eyes.

He leveled his gaze on her, looking deeply into her eyes, telegraphing all of his passion for her, barely restrained.

"Oh no, no, I'll never let you feel this way, not when you're here...like this…with me." He pulled her close to him and whispered her name into her ear.

He kissed her again deeply, plunging deeper and further inside her. He knew it was selfish, but he would lay claim on her heart and her body tonight.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A Ghost Story

Chapter 7

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. All rights to the story and movie 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' belong to Twentieth Century Fox Incorporated.

Spoilers: Any JAG episode up through Season 10. The movie 'The Ghost and Mrs. Muir' will be loosely referred to.

A/N Many thanks to Aerogril for her beta reading.

0415

Wednesday

February 28, 2001

Mac's apartment

North of Union Station

Mac lay sleeping, languorously spread out on the bed. The love she had made with Harm in her dreams left her sated and had pushed her deeper into slumber. Harm hovered above her. He knew he had to leave her and convince her in this dream that this was all he had ever been. A dream. He came closer to her, his lips just inches above hers, and when he spoke her name, she raised herself slightly from her pillow, her lips searching for his.

The pain Harm felt inside made him want to cry out. What a cruel twist of fate. How could he have just missed her, this love that he had wanted all his life? He reflexively reached to touch her, and then stopped himself; his touch would be cold to her now. Nothing like what they felt…in her dreams. This could not go on, this wall of reality between them; he had to go, this time forever.

"Mac, I have to leave you now."

Mac frowned in her sleep.

"You're a beautiful and desirable woman. You deserve a full life, and no matter what I feel for you, I'll never be able to give you that. Staying near you in whatever form would only confuse you further." He looked at her face, trying to memorize every detail.

"Soon I'll just be a dream to you. Harmon Rabb Jr. will be a faded memory of a man you had only heard of but had never known." He drifted back from her.

"Just don't forget what real love is, Mac. Remember that you deserve it all – love, respect, everything. Don't settle for anything less."

As he moved further away from her, he turned to look at her again. "I wish I could have taken you flying, Mac. I wish we could have worked together at JAG. We would have made a beautiful team. I've missed so much, Sarah… we both missed so much."

Though he knew he had to leave her in this lifetime, he believed they would be together somehow. He knew it, deep in his soul.

He would wait…as long as it took.

1030

Saturday

May 17, 2016

Rock Creek Park

Washington D.C.

Mac ran along the familiar trail and as she approached her car she noticed a young woman standing near it. It was Chloe.

"Mac!" The beautiful and composed young woman standing near Mac's car, looking for her, suddenly broke into a run as soon as she saw Mac.

Mac couldn't keep from laughing at the sight of her and from the pure joy of seeing her. Chloe had truly made her life complete.

"Hey, sweetie! What are you doing here? I mean, I didn't know you were coming – I didn't expect to see you until next week." Chloe launched herself into her arms, oblivious to Mac's sweat-covered clothing.

"I know, but I couldn't wait. I have someone I want you to meet and he won't be available next week." She nodded toward her car, parked about 20 yards away from them.

Mac opened her car door and grabbed a towel, dabbing at her face and neck. "I look awful, Chloe. I'm afraid I won't make a good first impression."

"Oh, he's already seen you, in pictures, so he knows how 'gorgeous' you are."

Chloe rolled her eyes like the 13-year-old she used to be. A part of her would always be that little girl to Mac.

Chloe took her elbow and guided her toward her car. A tall and handsome young man emerged from it, wearing a naval uniform. Just like the man in the portrait she had never been able to part with, the portrait of the former owner of her apartment. This young man was blond and his green eyes could be seen plainly from where she and Chloe stood.

Chloe was nearly bouncing with excitement. She was so glad to introduce her 'companion' to her oldest and dearest 'big sister.'

"Lieutenant Commander Thomas Davis, this is my big sister, Major General Sarah Mackenzie."

The young man nodded. "Ma'am."

She offered her hand and he shook it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, young man."

She could just kill Chloe for bringing him here. She looked terrible. "Please excuse my appearance. Chloe, as always, likes to surprise me." She gave her 'little sister' a sidelong glance.

"Would you like to come to the apartment? I can at least offer you two a cup of coffee." Mac suggested, trying to remember her manners.

"That sounds great, Mac." Chloe hugged her as though she had just told her she won the lottery. What was she up to?

Chloe looked at Tom. "Do you mind following us, Tom? I'd like a little girl talk before we get to the apartment."

Tom nodded his acquiescence and looked at Chloe as though he were worried about something.

Mac caught the look and decided that she would get to the bottom of this as soon as they got in the car.

Enroute to Mac's apartment…

Mac glanced at Chloe as she left the park. "Okay, young lady, what's going on?"

"Well, I wanted a chance to tell you, when it was just you and I. I'm engaged!" Chloe was glowing with happiness, and suddenly everything made sense.

"When…when will you be married?" No wonder the poor young man was giving Chloe such a worried look. She was about to tell her 'sister,' the Judge Advocate General of the United States Navy, that she was going to get married …to him, a lowly lieutenant commander.

Mac did feel sorry for him. He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Well, tomorrow, actually." Chloe's smile was mischievous.

"Why the hurry?" Mac had been looking forward to helping her plan her wedding, maybe even to being her maid of honor. Mac sighed and thought 'always the bridesmaid, never the bride.'

As Chloe chattered on about her new fiancé, Mac's mind returned to her broken engagement to Mic. She had never set a date with him. Something in his behavior back then had kept setting off alarms in her head. He wasn't 'the' one. She had ended it and she did not regret it.

"Mac?"

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. I was lost in thought."

"Were you thinking about Mic?" Chloe was perceptive as ever.

"Yes, I was."

"I'm glad you didn't marry him."

"I know I made the right decision. You know, I ran into him at a reception at the Australian Embassy a couple of years ago. He had gained about 40 pounds and was beginning to lose his hair. He was showing off pictures of his family. He had six kids and they all looked just like him."

Mac had felt sorry for his wife, though she never met her. All she could think about when she saw her in the group picture with her family, is that the woman looked faded and tired. Mac had been convinced not long after she had broken their engagement that the longer she was in a relationship with Mic, the more she would have lost her sense of herself completely.

"I never really liked him. I just went along because I thought it was what you wanted."

"Well, it's in the past, so you have nothing to worry about, and you never answered me about why the rush to get married."

"It's not really a rush; we've known each other for years. I met him when he was defending a case that I was prosecuting." Chloe had been practicing law for five years, in a civilian court. She had not followed Mac into the military but she had followed her into law.

"We just decided this is what we want and we're going to do it now. He has orders to London; I'll join him there later in the year when I can make some kind of realistic plan to continue doing what I want to do, as far as my career is concerned."

"So you met…arguing a case against each other?" Why hadn't she heard of him before? she wondered.

"Yeah…he drives me crazy…but he won't let me get by with anything." Chloe smiled secretly. "He loves me, Mac." She looked at Mac, her eyes filled with amazement at her own statement. Her happiness was palpable and infectious.

Mac felt such a sense of relief at those words. This was what she wanted for Chloe. If she had true love, she had it all.

She reached across the console and took Chloe's hand and squeezed it. "I'm so glad, honey."

"What about you, Mac? Aren't you ever going to get married?" Chloe's expression was filled with concern. "I don't like to think of you as being alone."

"I'm not alone, Chloe. I have my friends here in Washington. I have you. I have a wonderful job at JAG; being Judge Advocate General is pretty impressive…don't you think?"

"Yes, but I always imagined you with someone…like the guy in the portrait in your apartment. What was his name?"

"His name was Harmon Rabb Jr. He was a lieutenant commander, like your fiancé."

"I used to dream of him sometimes when I would spend the weekend with you."

Mac looked at her, questioning.

"Oh, I just talked to him in my dreams, about you mostly. He listened to me whine when you wouldn't let me have something I wanted. Or if I thought you were being unreasonable about something. He really got an earful when you were engaged to Mic."

Mac looked at her, almost incredulous.

"You dreamt of Commander Rabb?" Chloe's face lit with amusement.

"Sometimes, I dreamed of my idea of him. But he wasn't real, Chloe – he was just a dream."

"Oh, I know that, but I can't say he didn't influence my choice in my fiancé. The first time I saw Tom in uniform, I think I was smitten."

Mac smiled at her warmly. She'd had those thoughts too, when she looked at the portrait in her apartment. How she wished he were real.

2135

Friday

November 4, 2031

Mac's apartment

North of Union Station

Rear Admiral 'Bud' Roberts unlocked the door for General Sarah Mackenzie. Mac walked into her apartment wordlessly. She had just left her retirement party and Bud was kind enough to see that she got home.

"Bud, I don't know why you had to insist on this. I was fine, I could have driven myself."

Bud had witnessed his former mentor and commanding officer place her hand over her heart. He had seen the color leave her face. Mac had always been the picture of health; he had never seen her waver, in anything, ever. Today and tonight it seemed as though she wasn't herself at all.

"Are you sure you're alright, ma'am?" He wished she would lean on someone, just once.

"Bud, when are you ever going to call me Mac?" She was irritated; she didn't like being hovered over. When would Bud ever relax? He kept looking at her as if he expected her to explode.

"I told you, I'm fine!" She knew she was being sharp with him and she already regretted it.

"AJ and I will bring your car over in the morning…Mac." Bud had dropped the 'little' in front of AJ when he entered grade school.

"You will not. Chloe and Tom are coming tomorrow, first thing. They can do it. I've already imposed on you enough." They were bringing all three of their children. She would have a full day tomorrow.

"Its no imposition, ma'am." Bud caught himself. "I'm sorry…Mac."

Mac turned to look at Bud; he looked as uncomfortable and nervous as he had as a lieutenant, so long ago. Somehow that would always be endearing to her.

"Bud…I'm sorry. Look, just go home; Harriet is probably waiting for you. I appreciate your concern, but I really am fine." She smiled at him, hoping he would be reassured and do as she asked.

"Yes, ma'am." Bud started to say something then he decided he would just leave her in peace. He intended to call first thing in the morning, though. He had the feeling that this might not be the first time the general had experienced chest pain. He would call Chloe while she was there tomorrow, even if he got his butt chewed out. It wouldn't be the first time she dressed him down, so why should it stop just because she had retired?

She stepped up into her bedroom and removed the jacket to her dress uniform, placing it on a hangar. She turned to look at her 'commander,' his smile as magnetic as it had ever been to her. She shook her head and thought aloud… "dreams."

She showered and changed into her favorite pajamas and settled into bed. She reached for the book on her bedside table and opened it to her favorite passage in the old and tattered classic, 'Jane Eyre.'

"It is my spirit that addresses your spirit, just as if both had passed through the grave and we stood at God's feet equal – as we are!"

She read it aloud, to no one, the sound of her own voice echoing off of the walls. Love and destiny: she hadn't experienced it in this life, but she still believed in it with all her heart. She had had a good life so far. A life filled with friends, Chloe and her family, and a great career. She chuckled softly; maybe she would find real love in another life. While it was true that she was alone, she didn't feel lonely just now.

As she reached up to turn the page, she felt a sharp pain shoot up her arm, into her neck and then to her chest. Before she had a chance to comprehend what was happening, her heart arrested and she died…alone. She dropped her book in her lap and it fell to the floor, still open to the passage she had been reading.

Mac felt her spirit leave her body and suddenly felt renewed and as strong as she had ever been. She looked up and saw him. Harm was waiting for her; she now remembered everything that had faded in her memory. This was her love, it was Harm. She had missed having him in her life before, but she would not miss him in the one that she had just entered.

He smiled at her and reached for her hand. She took it, and he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. When he looked into her eyes, their connection was immediate. She was home. She stepped into his arms, and they left that place, the place where they had always been separated by time and space.

2320

Tuesday

January 20, 2003

Mac's apartment

Georgetown

Mac woke suddenly, covered in sweat and feeling tears streaking down her face. She sat up immediately and looked around the room. She blinked, trying to comprehend where she was and to clear her mind. It was her apartment: the pale yellow walls trimmed with white, the fireplace, the rich tapestry pillows in all shades of green and brown.

What was happening?

She looked at her television and saw the DVD icon floating around the screen. Mac had fallen asleep watching a movie. Trying to calm herself, she told herself she had been dreaming, but it seemed so real. She stood and walked on wobbly legs to the kitchen and as she passed her telephone she said aloud. "Harm."

There was still Harm; she had to hear his voice.

Their last conversation came back to her clearly as she punched the familiar number. She was furious as she left the office earlier that night; she had been duped by Lieutenant Jeremy Duncan. She had worked hard to make his discharge possible and had actually thanked him for 'blowing the whistle' on a company that could get her fellow Marines killed. It had all been a sham, a way to rob the technology from the original creator and make himself and a company called Psycoustics rich.

Harm had tried to calm her, and asked to make her dinner or take her out that evening. She had brushed him off without a thought. "Please be there, Harm." It seemed as though it had been so long since she talked to him.

He picked up on the 5th ring. "Rabb."

Mac nearly cried when she heard his voice; her dream was still with her.

"Harm?" Her voice broke with emotion.

"Mac? What is it?" He knew he should have insisted that he make her dinner tonight. She was letting this case get under her skin, and that wasn't like her. She was the one with the dispassionate plan, while he was the one who had the reputation for being a loose cannon.

"I...I know it's late, but can I see you? Can you come over?" The emotion was still evident in her voice.

Harm answered without hesitation. "I'll be right there."

25 minutes later…

Mac stood in her kitchen, leaning against the counter; she had showered and dressed again. As she sipped her tea she tried to rein in her thoughts and think of what she would say. She owed him some kind of explanation; she must have sounded like an emotional wreck on the phone. Still, she couldn't wait to see him, to touch him and feel his skin warm under her hands. How could she do it and not be obvious…she didn't want to scare him. They hadn't gone near each other in months, not since Bud's accident. She didn't think she could stand it if he left her tonight, without knowing…without knowing…what?

Mac knew what she felt for Harm in her dream. She could never forget the love, the trust and the solid strength of his heart as well as his body. She wanted those things now; she didn't want to wait anymore. But how to tell him when there seemed to be such a gulf between them now? And what if this was just a dream, what if those feelings were never meant to exist between them?

Outside Mac's apartment building…

Harm pulled into his parking space. He had no idea what to expect when he walked into Mac's apartment tonight. To say she had been behaving strangely would be an understatement, but so had he. Every time he'd looked at her after she mentioned little AJ's birthday, he saw her pregnant, hugely pregnant. He kept blinking, trying to clear his vision; Mac must have thought he'd lost his mind. She had said it was AJ's fifth birthday when in fact it was his fourth. He was thinking she might want to move up the date. How would he handle it if she did?

Harm took his keys out of the ignition and got out of his SUV. As he walked toward her apartment he tossed his keys in the air and as he caught them, a terrible thought occurred to him.

He stopped walking and thought, 'What if she wants to call the baby deal off?'

Maybe that was why she was so upset. He looked up at the light in her living room window. He swallowed hard and decided to face whatever it was. Mac said she needed to see him, and no matter what she had to say, he was her friend, first and foremost.

Harm knocked on her door and waited for his fate.

Mac heard the knock and walked toward the door, straightening her sweater and smoothing her jeans. When she opened it, seeing Harm hit her full force, and she could do nothing but throw her self into his arms. "Harm... Oh God…it's you."

Mac loved the solid feel of him as he closed his arms around her. "Mac?"

"I'm okay, Harm…just give me a minute." She never wanted to let him go.

She didn't let go and he walked her into her apartment, kicking the door closed with his foot.

Harm wasn't sure what was going on but he was sure now that she wasn't canceling out their baby deal. Feeling more relief than he thought he would, he stroked her back and tried to calm her. He could feel her heart racing against his chest. She had been very closed to him for the last couple of weeks; he'd been afraid that she'd finally had it with him. Mac contradicted his fears as she brushed her cheek against his and said his name again. When he looked into her eyes and saw the tears welling there, he asked again.

"Mac, tell me what's going on."

She shook her head slightly. It was too crazy to explain: she had fallen asleep watching an old movie had a terrible nightmare and now…she couldn't hold back anymore. It sounded insane, even to her. How could she explain it in a way he would understand and believe? She loved him and she didn't want to waste any more time.

"Harm, I…"

She looked into his eyes again, seeing the green and the blue, and remembered seeing them glow with passion for her. She looked down at his lips; just once she would kiss them, and then she would know whether or not what she was feeling now was just the remnants of a dream. She touched his lower lip lightly with hers, and he opened his mouth. As she tasted his full upper lip, he took her mouth with the passion she had prayed was there.

Harm could not keep the sound of pleasure from escaping as she responded to his deeper kiss. She was giving herself over to him and he was feeling things he had long put away, thinking she wasn't ready, thinking they had time. The sounds of approval he made seemed to make her bolder, making her delve deeper and cling to him more tightly. God, if he didn't stop her, this wouldn't end with a kiss. He pulled her back from him by her arms.

"Mac…" He tried to catch his breath. "What is..."

Mac didn't want to talk. She felt as though she were back in her dream. It was still there, the feeling of love and undeniable passion between them. She silenced him with a kiss, and he pulled her against him again, unable to resist her.

Before his control completely snapped he walked her backward and gently pushed her back until she sat on the sofa. He sat down next to her, slipping his arm around her and on the back of the couch. "Mac…tell me."

"I can't…I can't explain it. You'll think I'm crazy." She looked at him, trying to assess his reaction to what she was saying.

"I'm not going to think you're crazy. You wouldn't believe what I've been…." Harm thought of how it would be to tell her he had been seeing her pregnant with his child every time he looked at her today.

She leaned against him and looked into his eyes. "What?"

"I'm not going to think you're crazy Mac." He would table that discussion for another time.

She reached up to stroke his cheek with the tips of her fingers and then his hair. The feel of his short hair softly brushing between long her fingers sent shivers up her arm and down her back. "Oh…it just…it feels so good to touch you. You're so… real."

Harm gave her a sly grin. "Mac… you have no idea… how real I'm getting." She was driving him crazy with everything she was doing. "But you have to tell me what has you so upset. And as much as I love having you near me like this, I need to know what brought this on."

"I had a nightmare…you know, one of those that you have trouble believing didn't really happen?" She looked up at him warily, waiting for him to dismiss her feelings about it.

Harm nodded. "I've had a few of those. It must have been a bad one. Was it about the case? Are you upset because the admiral ordered that I assist you with it?"

"No, and it has nothing to do with the case." She looked into his eyes. "It has to do with us."

Harm waited for her to continue.

"I dreamed that we missed each other… that we had never met. I lived my whole life and never found…love…or anything, because I…because you were…you died before I met you." She pressed her lips together, her chin trembling slightly.

"What?" No wonder she was so emotional when she answered the door.

"I know it's off the wall, but for a few moments when I woke up, I believed it. For a while I knew what it was to have never had you in my life at all. It was terrible. I only had the dream of you, not the reality."

She hugged him close, burying her face in the fabric of his soft sweater, his clean scent of soap and aftershave filling her senses and reassuring her that he was real and he was with her.

"So…does this mean you don't want to dream anymore?" Harm raised his eyebrows, his heart beat accelerating in anticipation of her answer.

Mac lifted her head from his chest and looked at him, trying to convey all the love she had kept locked in her heart. "No, I don't want to dream anymore…I love you, Harm."

Harm was stunned. He would have settled for the first part of that statement, but when she said she loved him, he was speechless. Looking down at her intently he traced the line of her cheekbone down to her jaw line. He tipped her chin slightly and drew her closer to him, his lips just a breath away from hers. "I love you."

Mac drew in a breath; his answer had been hoped for, but not expected. "Harm." She kissed him and she felt him let go, of everything… but her.

0530

Wednesday

January 21, 2003

Mac's apartment

Georgetown

Mac slipped deeper under the coverlet and stretched. Her body felt loose and completely relaxed. She smiled as she remembered Harm last night. The solid wall he had built around him came down and his thoughts and emotions all poured out. He had told her everything. Every time he wanted her, what he felt when he was trying to stay alive while he was adrift in the Atlantic, that he had loved her for a long time. He had opened his heart and pushed her body to the limit. He was all she had dreamed of.

She straightened her arm, reaching for him, trying to find that warmth that was now Harm for her. His side of the bed was empty. She raised her head suddenly.

"Harm?"

She couldn't have dreamed this, she thought. Just as she started to panic, she heard the sound of dishes being laid on the table from the kitchen and her eyes came to rest on his leather jacket draped on the chair by the door. He was still here. She exhaled, and just as she started to get up, Harm stepped into her bedroom.

"Hey." He was wrapped in a towel and grinning at her mischievously.

"Hey yourself." She sat back and just looked at him. He did a lot for his uniform and a pair of jeans…but she decided that the towel was her favorite.

He lifted up a small flat box that he had in his hand. "What is this?"

He had the cover of the DVD she watched before she fell asleep.

"It's an old movie, a classic. You probably wouldn't be interested; there are no aircraft of any kind in it."

He looked at the cover and cocked a brow. "I don't know. I might be, if you watch with me."

"You might be at that. It is about a sailor…or seaman." She gave him a sly grin. "It's about an old man of the sea."

"The Ghost and Mrs. Muir?" He knitted his brow and grinned at her.

"It's just an old ghost story, Harm."

FIN

Epilogue

0930

Tuesday

May 6, 2003

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Admiral AJ Chegwidden pulled his blinds further apart as he looked out into the courtyard. He watched as Clayton Webb walked out to his car in the lot just beyond the courtyard.

He had come to ask the assistance of Colonel Mackenzie in an operation he was planning. He'd said he needed her language skills and he needed her to pose as his 'pregnant' wife. The admiral knew something wasn't ringing true about what Webb was saying to him. He stopped trusting him a long time ago.

There wasn't any need to analyze the situation anyway, since Mac was not available. The former Colonel Mackenzie, now Colonel Rabb, was on her honeymoon. She would be gone another three weeks. She would be transferring to the judiciary upon her return, so Webb would certainly have no access to her then.

The Commander and the Colonel's more 'intimate' relationship had totally blindsided him. He had nearly given up on them both. What had Rabb finally done to move that forward? He wondered, thinking that surely Mac wasn't so grateful for his assistance on the Duncan case that she threw herself into his arms. Chuckling to himself, he decided that he would probably never figure it out and frankly he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

He had had to scramble to get a couple of attorneys to cover both Commander and Colonel Rabb for a month. They both had a lot of leave on the books, and to be honest, for the gift of finally having some semblance of peace in this office, he would have moved heaven and earth.

He watched as Webb opened his car door and looked back up toward his office. As AJ watched him get in his car and drive away, the question came to him.

Why did he have the feeling that his senior attorneys had just dodged a very large bullet?

FIN

A/N: For those of you who know…this did not end exactly as the movie did. I was going to leave it at that, but I just couldn't do it. For those of you who are purists, I apologize, to my fellow shippers, here's another one. LOL

A/N: I know… this was way out there. I know I went off the deep end with Bronte's 'Jane Eyre' quote but I couldn't help myself. It was another of those passages that will probably stay with me when I can't remember my own name. (smile)


End file.
